


Pour Some Sugar on Me

by desfic00



Category: Pushing Daisies, Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, F/M, M/M, More to come.....
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-03
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-11-04 11:04:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desfic00/pseuds/desfic00
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. I am making no profit from this fanfiction.</p><p>Summary: Castiel owns a pie shop. Dean loves him some pie.</p><p>Just started this one, but looks like it's going to be a long one!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean let out a sigh as he plopped into a booth near the window.  He tossed the crumpled newspaper onto the table as the waitress approached. 

“Well hey there, sugar,”  She beamed down at Dean, “what can I get for you?”

Her good mood was infectious despite his frustration.  Dean couldn’t help but smile back at her, “Bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a coke please.”

“Be back in a jiff!”  Dean stole a glance at her ass as she walked away.  When she disappeared in the kitchen he sighed again and turned back to the newspaper.  He slid his pen out of his back pocket as he flattened out the rumpled classifieds.  He slashed through the listings for the three horrendous apartments he had just seen.  There were only two more he was going to see today, but if they were anything like all the others, he wasn’t sure it was even worth it.  He’d been pounding the pavement for a week now, trying to find a decent pad for him and Sam, and had found only crap.  It was becoming pretty clear that this was all their less-than-stellar budget was going to produce.

Dean tapped his pen against his bottom lip absent mindedly as he tried to decide if the last two apartments were worth the trip.  The waitress stepped up to the table with his food and he stilled the pen on his lip as he flashed a disarming smile up at her.  

She blushed a little as she set his plate down in front of him.  With one last glance, she scurried away.  Dean smiled to himself as he took a big bite of his burger.  She was kind of cute.  Dean closed his eyes as he chewed.  The burger was damn good.  He’d have to remember to come back here once they got settled. 

Dean reluctantly admitted to himself that he should go look at the final two prospects today.  They only had another week to find a place and get moved in before Sam’s classes started, plus he had to get back home and wrap some stuff up before then.  He hadn’t planned on being out here this long as it was.  He shoved the last of his fries in his mouth as AC/DC blared in his pocket.   He wiped his greasy fingers hastily on his jeans and flipped the phone open. 

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean answered, around his mouthful of fries.

“Dude, chew,” Sam replied. 

“Bite me,” Dean smirked, passing his credit card to the waitress as she came back with the bill.  He winked at her as he wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“Any luck today?”  Sam asked hopefully.  Dean knew he was anxious to have him back home too. 

“Uh yeah, lots of great places today,” Dean tried to force cheerfulness into his voice. 

“Right, days of nothing and now there’s suddenly a plethora of places?”  Sam whined.

Dean wrinkled his nose in distaste, “Dude, don’t say plethora.  It sounds dirty.” 

Sam exhaled loudly into the phone.

Dean gathered up the classified ads and his credit card that the waitress had placed back on the table.  “I’m heading to a couple more places right now.  Don’t worry.  I’ll find something.”

“Dean,” Sam started.

“Look, I gotta go,” Dean cut him off quickly, “I’ll call you tonight.”  He snapped the phone shut as he climbed into his car.  He just sat in the seat for a minute then shoved _Physical Graffiti_ into the tape deck and cranked it.  The bass jarring through the Impala made him feel a little better.  He put the car in gear and headed to the next address.

*****************************

Dean almost kept driving when he spotted the next place on his list.  The whole neighborhood looked like it had barely survived the fucking apocalypse.  Against his better judgment, he pulled over to the curb anyway.  As he locked the car door and headed for the entrance, all he could think was that his baby better be okay out here on her own.  He glanced back at the Impala worriedly.  “If anyone comes near you, honk.”  He trudged up the crumbling steps and pulled the door open.  He looked at his now sticky hand in disgust and wiped it on his jeans. 

The super’s door was ajar and Dean knocked softly.  A greasy, hairy guy poked his head out.  He was wearing only a pair of holey sweatpants and Dean averted his eyes from the exposed beer belly uncomfortably.  The guy scratched absently at his protruding stomach.  “Yeah?”

Dean cleared his throat, “Um yeah, I’m Dean.  I’m here about the apartment?” 

The guy shoved his hand down the front of his pants and scratched as he leered at Dean.  “Sure.”  He grabbed a large ring of keys and lumbered toward the stairs.  Dean followed reluctantly. 

They trudged up five flights, Dean keeping a safe distance behind the super.  They reached the door and Dean waited impatiently as the super wiggled 17 keys in the lock before finally finding the right one.  He pushed the door open and gestured into the apartment like he was showing a room at the freaking Ritz.  Dean slid past him gingerly.  The first thing that hit him was the menagrie of odors assaulting his senses.  It was a mixture of sweat, blood, alcohol, and probably urine.  His eyes actually watered.  He looked around himself in shock.  This was the worst place yet.  It looked like some sleazy motel room.  The wallpaper was a crazy floral design and the paisley pattern on the filthy carpet made his head swim.  There was some weird room divider that consisted of metallic fish staggered onto a pipe that went from floor to ceiling.  Dean shuddered as a roach scurried across his shoe.  There was no way they were living in this dump. 

He hurried back into the hallway where the super was waiting.  “Uh yeah thanks, I’ll let you know.”

The guy just belched in response and Dean rushed back down the steps and out into the fresh air.  He leaned against the Impala, “Oh baby, you have no idea.  Don’t worry, I won’t make you live here,” he reassured her, patting the roof.  He climbed in and quickly crossed the address of his list.  Only one more circled place.  Dean drew in a deep breath.  They were running out of options.  He was pretty sure he’d seen every monstrosity in their budget by this point.

Despite his luck so far, Dean was semi-hopeful about this last place, it’s why he had saved it for last.  It was at least close to campus and he knew it was a decent neighborhood.  He wouldn’t have to worry about the Impala getting jacked.  Dean decided to park at the campus and see how the walk to the apartment was to make sure it would be safe for Sammy.  The weather was mild today and it felt good against his skin as he strolled down the block.  There was a bar on the next corner that he approached.  The Roadhouse.  Dean peered in the window as he passed.  There were a couple guys playing pool in one corner and a hot blonde behind the bar.  Dean grinned.  It looked promising.  He continued up a few more blocks and turned the corner towards the apartment building.  He stopped short when he saw it on the opposite corner. 

Dean swore he could hear a chorus of angels as he looked up at the building.  The whole bottom floor of the building was shaped like a freaking pie.  _The Pie Hole_ was plastered across the crust in big letters.  Was this really a restaurant just for pie?  Dean salivated at the thought.  The ad had said the apartment was above a restaurant, but damn, this took the cake, or the pie as the case may be.

Dean couldn’t help but lick his lips as he headed across the street towards the giant pie.  He pulled the door open and a bell tinkled merrily.   As he entered he looked around himself in amazement.  The whole interior was bright with colors.  It looked like a unicorn farted a freaking rainbow all over the room.   Despite the kitschy look that wasn’t exactly Dean’s taste, he couldn’t help but smile at the cheery décor.  There was a long counter opposite the door.  It had pie shaped stools lined up in front of it, and cherry shaped lights hanging above. 

Dean bypassed the booths and tables in favor of setting his ass on a pie.  It was just too good to pass up.  He settled in somewhat gleefully, still taking in his brilliant surroundings.  Dean knew he should probably ask about the apartment, but a quick slice first wouldn’t hurt.  A man approached him from the other side of the counter, an apron tied around his waist.  He wore a plain white v-neck t-shirt.  He pulled a pen out from behind his ear and scratched his chin with it.  “So?”

Dean was thrown off for a moment.  It was hard to jive the joyful décor with this guy’s petulant tone.  “Um, a slice of pie?”

The guy rolled his eyes dramatically, “Uh, yeah, it’s a pie shop.  Would you like to be a tad more specific?”  His British accent somehow made him sound even more smarmy.

Dean tried flashing him his charming grin, “Well what do you have?”

“Pie,” was the dry, but becoming more annoyed, response.

“Can you be a tad more specific?”  Dean joked. 

Dean received a piercing glare for his efforts and then the guy just turned and walked away.  Dean gaped at his back.  “But, what about my pie?”  He mumbled forlornly.  He was about to just get up and leave when the guy returned, a sour look on his face.  He plopped a plate in front of Dean and practically threw a fork at him.  Dean was about to protest, but the smell of the warm pie wafted up to his nose.  He couldn’t quite identify the scent, but his mouth started to water anyway.  He didn’t even notice the rude waiter heave a British snort as he left Dean to his pie.  Dean eagerly grabbed his fork and dug in.

“Oh my God!”  Dean groaned aloud around his mouthful of pie.  This was the best fucking thing he had ever put in his mouth.  And that included Tony Manero, the quarterback at his fourth in a string of high schools.  Just as with the glorious scent, Dean was unable to put his finger on the amazing flavors dancing across his tongue.  He opened his eyes to see the Brit cock an eyebrow at him as he leaned back against the wall, with his arms crossed.  Dean smacked his lips unapologetically at him as he went in for another bite. 

“So seriously,” Dean asked, his words muffled by pie, “What the hell is this?”

The British dude stared at him for a moment.  “Castiel.” 

Dean furrowed his brow, confused.  That was a weird name for a pie flavor.  Before he could ask any further questions, however, another man appeared from the kitchen.  “Yes, Balthazar?” 

“This _gentleman_ ,”  Balthazar gestured to Dean with a sneer, “was inquiring about today’s special.”

The second man turned toward Dean as he was shoving the last bite of pie into his mouth.  Startling blue eyes gazed at him intently.  Eventually Dean noticed that the man was looking at him expectantly, wearing a small smile.  When Dean tried to speak, however, he realized his bite of pie remained in his mouth, unchewed.  He started choking violently and the man’s face took on a look of concern as he hurried around the counter and started gently rapping Dean on the back.  Dean spluttered, struggling to catch his breath.  He finally regained some of his composure and took a sip of the water that Balthazar had so thoughtfully placed in front of him with another eye roll.

“Are you ok?  You look a little red.”

Dean looked up at the man still standing next to him with a hand pressed lightly to his back.  He knew the redness was more from embarassment than anything.   Dean found himself mesmerized again by the bright blue eyes he was looking in to. 

“Are you ok?”  The man asked again, reaching toward Dean hesitantly with his other hand.

“Oh, uh yeah, I’m good,”  Dean responded shakily.  _What the fuck, Winchester?  What is wrong with you?_   He mentally berated himself.  It’s not like he’d never seen a hot guy before, but fuck, those _eyes._   Dean couldn’t believe he had nearly just choked to death because some dude looked at him.  He felt a flush creep up the back of his neck again. 

The man seemed hesitant to believe him.  “Really, I’m ok,” Dean reassured him, a little more collected now.  The man slowly stepped away, his hand brushing down Dean’s back as he removed it.  Dean had to suppress a shiver.  The man walked back around the counter and shot a pointed look at Balthazar, who was barely suppressing a laugh at Dean’s display.  Balthazar sighed and shot one final smirk at Dean before disappearing back into the kitchen. 

Blue eyes turned toward Dean again and Dean concentrated on keeping his breathing steady.   He slowly took in the rest of the view in front of him.  The man was wearing an apron spattered with smiling dancing fruit.  There was a smudge of flour on his right cheek.  He had a mop of thick, messy, black hair and full lips.  Long, thick eyelashes framed those ridiculous eyes.  Dean blushed again as he realized the man was watching Dean’s eyes peruse him.   He stuck out his hand as a distraction.  “I’m Dean.”

The man looked down at Dean’s hand before grasping it firmly in his own.  “I am Castiel.” 

_Oh that was the dude’s name!_   Dean felt stupid that he was just comprehending this.  “The pie was really good,”  Dean said, unwillingly letting go of Castiel’s hand. 

“I’m glad you liked it.  Balthazar said that you had a question?”

Dean stared back at him blankly. 

“About the pie?”  Castiel prompted.

“Oh, I just, I mean,” Dean stuttered.  What the hell was _wrong_ with him? “It was really good,” he finished lamely.

“Thank you,” Castiel responded.  Dean couldn’t help but smile at the sincereity of his simple statement.

Castiel turned for the kitchen and Dean swept his gaze up and down, taking in his lithe figure and damn, that was a nice ass.  He was gone before Dean realized that he hadn’t asked about the apartment.  Dean rolled his eyes, frustrated at himself.  He was practically swooning over a complete stranger.  Dean decided to blame it on the orgasmic pie.  He thought about going back outside and around to the apartment entrance, but the ad had said to inquire within the restaurant.  He rose from his stool, standing awkwardly at the counter.  Then he remembered that he hadn’t paid yet, so he took his time counting bills out of his wallet. 

Just as he laid the money on the counter, wondering how he could dawdle anymore, Castiel emerged from the kitchen.  He placed a triangular container on the counter in front of Dean.  “I thought you might like a slice to take with you.”

“Wow, man.  Thanks,”  Dean almost forgot why he had been dawdling in the first place, when Castiel nodded with a small smile and turned away.  Dean nearly just stood there watching him walk back into the kitchen.  “Oh, wait!” He managed to knock himself out of his reverie before the pie man disappeared again.

Castiel turned back toward him.  “I actually came about the uh, I mean, is the, do you know, the ad, about the apartment?”  Dean’s eloquance was clearly impaired at this moment. 

“Of course,” Castiel’s lips curved slightly.  “Balthazar, I will be back shortly,” he called lightly over his shoulder.  He turned back toward Dean as he pulled his apron off and folded it carefully, placing it on the serving counter behind him.  “We can take the back way.”  He headed toward an alcove in the corner of the restaurant and Dean grabbed his pie and followed.  Castiel started up the wooden staircase at the back of the alcove.  Dean failed miserably at not watching Castiel’s ass as it ascended in front of him. 

The stairs emptied out onto a short hallway.  There was a door on each side of the hall.  Dean tore his eyes away from Castiel long enough to observe that the hallway was plain, but clean.  That was basically a first in his search.  Castiel had opened the door and was waiting patiently for Dean to finish his inspection.  “Oh sorry,” Dean mumbled, hurrying to the open door.

Castiel smiled his serene smile again, “Take your time.”

Dean smiled back gratefully and entered the apartment.  He stopped short at the sight and Castiel bumped into his back. 

“Oh I’m sorry,” Castiel placed a hand on Dean’s arm, “Is something wrong?”

“It’s… it’s perfect,” Dean breathed, letting his gaze travel over the room.  Before him was a bright open space that encompassed a kitchen on one side and what had to be the living room on the other.  They somehow melted into each other while still being two distinct spaces.  The entire back wall was a large window, lending a fresh sunny feeling to the whole space. 

“You haven’t even seen it all,” Castiel asserted, easily taking Dean’s free hand and leading him to a door off of the living room that Dean assumed was the bathroom.  Somehow it seemed completely natural for Castiel’s hand to be wrapped gently around his own.   As Castiel guided him through the door, Dean realized that it didn’t lead to the bathroom.  Instead they were in a long corridor with 4 doors off of it. 

“Wait,” Dean started, “I thought this was a studio?”

Castiel tilted his head, looking at Dean as though he were a complete mystery, “Did it say that in the ad?”

“Well, no,” Dean admitted, “I just assumed from the rent and what else I’ve seen in my price range.”

Castiel appeared to ponder that, “I chose what I believe to be a fair price, but I do have to admit that I have been somewhat selective in choosing a tenant.”               

Dean didn’t know how to respond to that. “Oh, well…”

Castiel dropped Dean’s hand to open the first door.  Dean immediately missed the warmth.  The first door did lead to the bathroom.  Dean whistled as he surveyed the clean modern design.  There were two sinks, a large shower, and was that a freaking hot tub?  Castiel must have followed Dean’s gaze.  “Technically it’s a jetted, whirpool bathtub.”

“Oh sure,” Dean cleared his throat.  This was too good to be true.  Maybe the rent in the ad was some sort of typo?  Castiel moved to the second door and opened it to reveal a large bedroom with built in bookcases taking up the entire wall across from the door.  Dean’s first thought was how much Sam would love those for all his damn books.  The room also boasted huge windows to the right and a large walk-in closet on the left.  This was crazy.  There was no way they could afford this place.

Dean raised his hands almost defensively, “Look, dude, this must be some mist….” 

Castiel cut him off, “Just wait until you see it all.”  He moved further down the hallway, opening the door to another bedroom.  This one also sported the cheery sunshiney windows on one wall.  The wall across from the door had several shelves and electronic gizmos embedded in it. 

Castiel again answered Dean’s unanswered question, “A built in media entertainment center,”  he pointed to the corners of the room where Dean now noticed speakers bolted to the ceiling.  “5.1 Dolby Digital surround sound,” Cas continued as he slid a panel up in the wall revealing a huge ass plasma screen, “an HD TV, Blu-ray, Sirius Satellite, mp3 jack, and my personal favorite, a record player, all hooked up to the speakers and run through this remote.”  Cas wiggled a small remote at Dean before pulling open a cabinet next to the system.  It ran from floor to ceiling and there were several pull out shelves within.  They each had numerous thin slots running across them.  “Record storage,”  Cas said with a grin.  That was the biggest smile Dean had seen from him and he couldn’t help but grin back. 

Dean felt like this whole apartment had been made just for him and Sammy.  He could just imagine all Sammy’s books on the bookshelf, and all his albums arranged neatly in their rack.  On the other hand, he knew there was no way they’d ever be able to afford it.  He felt he needed to tell Castiel and quit wasting his time, but the guy seemed so eager to show him everything.  He figured he might as well see what was behind the last door. 

Castiel took Dean’s hand again, pulling him excitedly out of the room and to the last door at the end of the hall.  Dean laughed aloud at his exuberance.  It was such a contrast from his initial calm demeanor.  The door opened to expose a set of stairs. 

“Dude, don’t tell me there’s a second floor.”

“Not quite,” Castiel’s blue eyes sparkled and Dean instinctively tightened his grip on Castiel’s hand as he was pulled up the stairs.

They practically burst through the door at the top of the stairs and Dean found himself on a roof top.  There was a fire pit and a whole outdoor kitchen in front of him, with a cozy set up of lounge chairs and a couch behind it.  A few yards to the side was a freaking pool.  Castiel gestured to a small structure with a door sitting on the opposite end of the roof.  It kind of looked like an outhouse.  “Those stairs lead down to my apartment, which is across the hall from yours.  You’re welcome to have access to the roof any time you wish,” Castiel went on, “As long as you don’t mind sharing occasionally.” Dean turned around and saw that they had just emerged from an identical structure.  He moved behind it to peek over the edge of the roof.  A low wall bordered the entire area and he leaned against it to look down.  He could see the pie crust below them.

Dean turned back to Castiel to see him still grinning at Dean expectantly.  “So what do you think?”

“I think it’s too good to be true,” Dean replied hesitantly.

Castiel furrowed his brow in confusion.  “I don’t understand.  It appeared that you appreciated what you saw.”

Dean felt the corner of his mouth twitch at the unintended double entrandre.  “I did,” he assured Castiel, “but I know there must be some mistake.  There’s no way a place this perfect is in our budget.”

“Our?”  Dean couldn’t help but think the guy looked a little dissapointed.  Or maybe he was just projecting his own feelings about the situation. 

“Yeah, me and my little brother, Sammy.”

Castiel brightened a little.  “Sammy,” he repeated thoughtfully.   Dean thought the nickname sounded a little weird coming from someone else.  Dean was the only one Sam allowed to call him that. 

“Yeah,” Dean replied, “We’re just a couple boys from small-town Kansas and this is just too much.”

Castiel continued to ignore his protests.  He strolled over to one of the lounge chairs and perched on the edge.  Dean followed suit, sitting across from him.  He noticed their knees were almost touching.         “Why are you moving to California?” 

“Sam’s starting classes at Stanford next week,” Dean stated proudly, “He’s going to be a lawyer.”

Castiel nodded solemnly.  “I like you, Dean,” he replied simply, “I think I would like you to live here.”

Dean didn’t know how to respond to such an open, honest statement.  He pulled the rumpled classifieds from his jacket pocket and held it out for Castiel.  “I think maybe there was a typo in the ad.”

Castiel looked at it briefly, confusion flashing across his face again.  “I see nothing amiss.  Do you not think Sam will be pleased with the apartment?  Or perhaps you do not want to live across the hall from your landlord?”

“No, none of that,” Dean quickly assured him, “It’s all fucking perfect!  I just don’t see how the rent can be so cheap for a place like this.”

Castiel cocked his head to the side again, a hurt expression on his face.  “You believe I am lying to you?”

“No! I…”  Dean struggled to express that he felt he was the one taking advantage of Castiel.  Surely he could get way more for an apartment like this.  Dean also had to admit that the sheer perfection of everything about it, including the gorgeous creature sitting before him, made him a little uncomfortable.  It was just too much. What had he done to deserve this?

Somehow Castiel seemed to understand all this just by watching the emotions that flit across Dean’s face.  He stood and looked down at Dean almost tenderly, “Sometimes things are just good and true, Dean.  As I said, I would like you to live here.  If you feel the same way, you can move in immediately.”

Before Dean could protest further, Castiel continued, “I will give you some time to think about it and you may look around more if you wish.  I will meet you down in the pie shop whenever you are ready.” 

Dean watched as the pie man departed down the steps.  He stood slowly and surveyed the roof again.  He knew Sam would love this place and really what else had he found?  Something about Castiel radiated sincerity, so Dean decided to take a leap of faith; not something that he was used to.  He grinned as he moved to the edge of the roof and looked down at the scalloped edges of the pie crust again.  He flipped his phone open and dialed.  “Sammy, you better get packing.  We’ve got an apartment.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

Dean headed back down to the apartment after hanging up with Sam. He had been purposefully vague in his description of the apartment and couldn’t wait to see Sam’s surprise at how awesome it was. Dean took his time making his way back through the apartment, still not quite believing it was all true. He entered the large living room, wondering how their ratty old furniture was going to look next to the gourmet kitchen. He walked around the granite island and opened the refrigerator. He placed his pie on the empty shelf and grinned. Maybe things were really looking up for once.

As Dean walked back into the pie shop, he still expected Castiel to tell him that the ad really was a mistake. Dean walked past the large kitchen door and noticed that it was now propped open. He peered in and saw Castiel mixing together some dough with his hands. He was looking down at his workspace intently, kneading the dough carefully with his nimble fingers. Dean found himself leaning against the door engrossed in Castiel’s hands as they worked the dough. Dean jumped as someone cleared their throat loudly behind him. He turned guiltily to find Balthazar glaring at him.

“Excuse me?” Balthazar sneered, all British.  
The guy was starting to get on Dean’s nerves, “Sorry, princess,” he muttered as he stepped aside.

Castiel looked up as Balthazar walked over to the large slab and caught sight of Dean. “Dean,” he smiled. He raised his eyebrows questioningly and Dean just nodded. Castiel’s smile grew wider, “Balthazar, it looks like we have new neighbors.”

The words didn’t sink in at first and Dean started to smile back. As he watched Balthazar drape an arm casually across Castiel’s shoulders, however, he heard the meaning of the sentence and realized who the “we” was. He could feel his smile falter. Balthazar smirked, letting his arm slide down to Castiel’s waist. “Lovely,” he intoned dryly. Noticing Dean’s unhappy face directed at Balthazar, Castiel turned to Balthazar with a confused look on his face. Dean looked away as Balthazar took the opportunity to press his lips to Castiel’s slowly.

“Ok, well then,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, “I have to go back to Kansas for Sam and our stuff, but we should be back in a few days.”

Castiel nodded, Balthazar still clinging tightly to his side, “we look forward to your arrival.” Balthazar’s sour face indicated that he didn’t quite agree with that sentiment, but Dean just ignored him.

“Right. Well, see you then.” Dean backed out of the kitchen and headed out to his car. He wasn’t sure what to make of the mix of emotions swirling inside of him. He’d never had such a strong reaction to a hot guy before, or anyone for that matter. It was a bit unsettling. Especially the pang of jealousy he had felt when Balthazar’s lips had touched Castiel’s. Dean decided to just ignore it and focus on the good news that he had actually found an awesome place for him and Sam. Sam’s dream of going to Stanford was really going to happen and Dean couldn’t have been happier.

************************************

It took Dean almost two days to make the drive back home. Normally he didn’t mind long drives, but he was anxious to make sure everything was ready for the move, and of course to get Sam settled in the new place a little, before starting classes. He was cutting it closer than he would have liked.

Dean walked into the small apartment and was greeted by an empty room. He looked around, a bit bewildered. What the fuck? Where was all their shit? “Sammy!” Dean called out, suddenly alarmed that something was wrong. He quickly ran back to the only bedroom and there was Sam. Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the empty room.

“Sam? What’s going on?”

Sam grinned up at him, “Hi, Dean.”

“Sam, come on. Where’s all our stuff?”

“At Bobby’s,” Sam replied casually.

“Wha… why?” Dean was starting to get frustrated with Sam’s cryptic responses. They really didn’t have time for this.

Sam scrambled to his feet, still grinning. “It’s all taken care of. We’re ready to go.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at him.

Sam continued enthusiastically, undeterred, “Bobby helped me out while you were gone. We’ve got everything packed up in a trailer and ready for California. Bobby kept it at the garage so I could surprise you.”

Dean shook his head, “Ok but, we still…”

“Nope,” Sam cut in cheerfully, “It’s all taken care of. Mail forwarded, tuition payment plan set up, all our bills paid up, all your work at the shop wrapped up, even got our whole security deposit back from the landlord.”

Dean didn’t know what to say. “Sam…”

“I know, Dean,” Sam clapped a hand on his shoulder, “You’re welcome. You do so much for me…. Trust me, this was nothing.”

Dean smiled back at his little brother, grateful that he didn’t have to make some big sappy speech.

“Now come on,” Sam practically bounced out of the room, “We’re having a farewell dinner at Bobby’s and then we can hit the road tomorrow. That is, if you’re not sick of being in the Impala by now.”

Dean shoved him playfully from behind as they left the apartment, “You better not let her hear you say shit like that.”

***************************************

The boys burst into Bobby’s apartment above the garage, wrestling and laughing like they hadn’t done in a long time. Dean felt lighter than he had in years. It had taken a lot of hard work, but Dean had finally gotten Sammy to school. This was definitely a celebration. The smell of butter, garlic, and onions wafted through the apartment and they found Bobby in the kitchen pulling lasagna and garlic bread out of the oven.

“Well look at Betty Crocker,” Dean greeted him.

“Shut up.” Bobby slapped Dean affectionately on the back of the head.

“Salad!” Sam exclaimed, noticing the large serving bowl already on the table, “Thanks, Bobby!”

“What are you, a girl?” Dean teased.

Bobby shook his head, “All right, chuckleheads, sit down before it gets cold.” He handed Dean a bottle of beer and Sam a coke as he joined them.

Dean sat at the small table in Bobby’s kitchen and he couldn’t suppress a grin as he looked around at his little family digging happily into their dinner. There was still that familiar stab of loss as he thought about those that weren’t here, but it was duller than usual at this moment. He took a big bite of garlic bread and contentedly listened to Sam and Bobby argue about the virtues, or lack thereof in Bobby’s opinion, of vegetarian lasagna. Eventually the cheerful banter died down and they all just enjoyed the home cooked meal.

Bobby had always been a good cook, but he didn’t pull out those particular skills very often, so Dean always appreciated it. In fact, it had been Bobby who had taught him how to cook way back when. Dean had felt guilty always feeding Sammy cereal and Spaghettios and of course Bobby had stepped in to help when Dean asked. Bobby had always been there for the boys and Dean couldn’t have been more grateful to have the gruff old mechanic in his life.

“So, Bobby,” Dean broke the comfortable silence, sopping up some sauce with his bread, “Sam said everything at the shop is squared away?”

“Yep. New guy started yesterday.”

“And you’re sure he’s going to work out?” Dean asked, concerned about leaving Bobby in the lurch.

“Hate to break it to you, kid,” Bobby replied with a grin, “But you ain’t the only good mechanic in town.”

“Well besides you,” Dean allowed, figuring that was probably true since Bobby had taught him everything he knew.

Bobby snorted, “Guy’s actually a mechanical genius, if a little odd.”

“Odd?” Dean raised his eyebrows.

“Well just a little,” Sam jumped in, “But then, all of us geniuses are.”

Bobby laughed loudly as Dean rolled his eyes. “Right, Sammy. Odd, I’ll give ya.”

“Really, Dean,” Bobby assured him, “It took some searching, but I think this kid’ll work out just fine.” Bobby lowered his eyes, as he added softer, “Of course no one could really replace you.”

It suddenly struck Dean that tomorrow they were heading to California and leaving Bobby behind. Somehow during all his preparations and planning, this thought hadn’t even occurred to Dean. Bobby was the only constant in his life, besides Sam. He’d always been there and Dean had taken his presence for granted. Dean opened his mouth, but he didn’t know what to say, how to express just how much Bobby had meant to him all these years.

Luckily Bobby was just as uncomfortable with emotional declarations as Dean was and he had already shoved his chair back from the table and was clearing his empty dishes from the table. Sam joined him at the sink with his own dishes.

Dean turned towards them in his chair. “You know, Bobby, maybe I should just swing by tomorrow and check him out before we leave. You and Sam already saved us a ton of time by having everything ready. We’re in no rush.”

Bobby started to protest, but he must have seen the pleading look in Dean’s eyes. “Sure, Dean,” he allowed, “that’d be great.”

Dean smiled back at him, relieved that it wasn’t time for goodbye quite yet.

Sam and Bobby finished rinsing the dishes while Dean made up the couch and recliner in the living room for him and Sam to crash on, since their apartment was now empty.

“Yo, gigantor,” Dean punched Sam in the shoulder as he walked back in to the kitchen, “You get the recliner since you won’t fit on the couch anyway.”

“Yeah whatever,” Sam replied willingly, “How about some poker?”

“Shouldn’t you idjits be saving your money for Cali?” Bobby smirked, but grabbed the cards anyway.

They sat back at the table as Bobby dealt the cards. Dean felt that bittersweet feeling again as they played. He was content in the moment, but the happiness also reminded him of what he was about to lose. Bobby had taught him poker too. He had taught Dean so much, which in itself was kind of bittersweet. Bobby wouldn’t have had to step in so much, if their Dad had been a Dad occasionally.

John Winchester had ceased to be a Dad, or much of anything for that matter, when the boys’ mother died giving birth to Sam. Dean could always tell that John blamed Sam for the loss of Mary, but damned if Dean would ever let Sam know that. John proceeded to drink himself into oblivion, rarely surfacing except to scream at the boys when they got in his way. Bobby was John’s partner at the garage. They had opened it the same year that Dean was born and it had become quite successful. Six years later, after Sam’s birth and Mary’s death, Bobby was struggling to cover for John’s end of the business, but it soon became apparent it just wasn’t working.

Bobby was also doing his best to look after the boys, but John was no help there either. Bobby found a live-in nanny to watch the boys and John barely noticed his children were being raised by other people. Dean remembered watching his Dad fall apart and thinking it was his fault. He remembered taking care of John when he was too drunk to take care of himself. At only six years of age, Dean made sure that John ate, pulled a blanket over him when he passed out on the couch in the living room, and even cleaned up his vomit from the bathroom floor when he was too weak to even lift his head to the toilet.

Dean also remembered the first time he had climbed up and looked into Sammy’s crib after Bobby had forced John to bring the baby home two weeks after Mary’s death. Dean had immediately felt responsible for Sammy and knew that he would always be there for him and protect him. Sam had looked up at him with big trusting eyes. “Don’t worry, Sammy,” Dean had promised, “I’m your big brother and I’ll always be here for you.”

After that Dean saw himself as the man of the house. It was his job to take care of Dad and Sammy. He was always grateful for the help provided by Bobby and Missouri, the nanny, but that didn’t mean he ever slacked on his job. Dean also realized that while he loved Bobby, and soon Missouri too, they could never replace his Mom and Dad. Dean knew even at his young age that he had lost them both the day Sammy was born. He never blamed Sammy though, after all, his little brother had lost his parents too. Dean was Sammy’s whole family now and he wasn’t about to let Sam be disappointed in that fact.

Dean quickly learned that Missouri and Bobby were powerful resources when it came to teaching him how to better take care of Sam. Missouri taught him how to change Sam’s diapers early on, and how to help him with his numbers and reading later. She taught him how to sew, although Dean would never admit to that skill, and she taught him most of all how to be patient, with both Sammy and his Dad. Bobby taught him how to toss a ball, so he could one day teach Sam. He taught him how to cook and how to fix up cars to make a little extra money when they needed it.

When Sam was five and Dean had just turned eleven, Missouri sat him down and taught him about cancer. It had seemed like an abstract notion initially, but Dean soon found out just how devastating it could really be. Missouri went downhill quickly after receiving her diagnosis and Dean stepped into the role of her caretaker as well, without hesitation. Dean occasionally had to miss school to care for her, but luckily by this time Sammy was in school too, so Dean didn’t have to worry about him until that final bell rang. Bobby did what he could to help, but much of his time was devoted to the garage so that he could continue to help the boys financially.

Missouri didn’t last long, despite her fighting spirit. She was gone only four months after hearing of her diagnosis. The hardest part for Dean was trying to explain the loss to Sam. His little brother kept looking up at him with frightened, tearful eyes and asking questions that Dean didn’t yet know the answers to himself. He did his best to comfort Sammy and distracted him with school whenever he could. Even then Sam had geeked out for the whole learning thing. After that Dean had pretty much raised Sam on his own, though Bobby had helped out where he could.

John, of course, had continued his downward spiral. He was rarely even conscious anymore, except to pour more alcohol down his gullet. He finally simply drank himself to death when Dean was thirteen. John hadn’t thought to provide for his sons in death either and had left them nothing but his beat up old Impala. Despite the pain and loss that both he and Sam experienced, Dean couldn’t help but be somewhat relieved, which of course then made him feel guilty. The next six months, however, were the worst of Dean’s life. The boys were both placed in foster care and Dean was horrified when they were split up. Sammy had lost everyone, Dean wasn’t about to let him lose his big brother too. Dean spent the next six months running away from every foster home they put him in and “kidnapping” Sam from his. They would manage to live on the streets sometimes for up to a week before they were found and placed with new families.

Bobby finally managed to track down a social worker who agreed that splitting the boys up just wasn’t going to work. Dean couldn’t have thanked Bobby enough for that. After that they still bounced around from home to home, but they were always together. For Dean that was enough. Throughout the next four years, the boys saw many towns, homes, and schools. After a while they stopped even trying to make friends and just relied on each other. Bobby made sure to keep in contact, even if just through letters at times. The boys would hang out at the garage after school whenever they were in a town that was close enough. When business was slow, Bobby would help Dean fix up his Dad’s old Impala that he stored at the shop for him. The families they lived with never really seemed to care where they were or what they did, so long as they weren’t a burden and that check came every month.

Bobby helped Dean petition for guardianship of Sam once Dean had earned his GED. Dean knew he would never get around to graduating so he finally just took the test when he was seventeen and got it over with. He didn’t have time for school, and had rarely been attending, between taking care of Sam and working to save up as much money as they could. The day of Dean’s eighteenth birthday the court granted his request and they just walked away from the house they were currently staying at, with nothing but a couple of duffle bags that held their meager belongings.

They stayed with Bobby for a couple of weeks until Dean found a decent enough apartment nearby. Bobby immediately given him a job at the garage and Dean had worked there ever since. When Sam started high school, and it was growing more and more obvious that he was crazy smart, Dean realized he needed to start saving for college. There was no way he was letting Sam miss out on that just because of money. He kept his job at Bobby’s garage, but also took any other odd jobs he could find. He still tried to be home every night to make dinner for Sam, and succeeded most nights, even if that meant missing a couple hours of sleep once in a while.

Now they were finally here. Dean had managed to save up enough money to get Sam through the first few semesters at Stanford. Of course Sam being all brainy had to go to the expensive school, but Dean was too proud of him to care. He’d get back to the grindstone once they were in California and start saving again. It certainly helped that he had found the insanely cheap apartment.

Dean should have been in seventh heaven at the way things were going, but the sudden realization that it meant they were leaving Bobby was like a dark cloud hanging over him. After all Bobby had done for him and Sam, Dean couldn’t imagine being without him. Dean watched Bobby across the table as he grumbled at his cards and took a swig of his beer. Sam was already snoring loudly in the other room.

Dean lay his cards on the table and stared at his hands. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, “You know, Bobby, I…” Dean fidgeted in his chair, not sure what to say. “Me and Sam, we…” Dean tried again, “he wouldn’t be going to Stanford if it wasn’t for you.” Dean finished, finally raising his eyes to meet Bobby’s.

“You did all the work, kid,” Bobby replied, his voice gruffer than usual.

“No, you’ve always been there for us, for me. And just… thank you.” Dean lowered his eyes again when he felt tears threatening.

They both sat quietly for a moment. Then Bobby shoved his chair back and hauled Dean up from his, pulling him into a tight embrace. Dean smiled a little against the old mechanic’s shoulder, even as a single tear rolled down his cheek. No more words were needed. The intensity of the hug was more articulate than any speech they could give. Fuck, Dean was going to miss him, but he knew Bobby would still always be there for him, distance be damned.

 

******************************

Dean awoke the next morning to the smell of bacon. “Mmmmmm,” he groaned into his pillow. He was torn between his warm blanket and the promise of salty bacon. When the smell of warm maple syrup joined in, it was no contest. He rolled off the couch and padded into the kitchen, rubbing at his eyes sleepily. Bobby was standing at the counter stacking Belgium waffles on a platter.

Dean laughed aloud, “You have a waffle maker, Martha Stewart?”

“I’ve told you before, Dean. Real men cook,” Bobby retorted, “Now why don’t you go pry goldilocks away from the bathroom mirror long enough to eat?”

“Sam!” Dean bellowed as he plopped down at the table, “Food!”

Bobby rolled his eyes. “I could’ve done that, ya idjit,” he grumbled.

Sam loped into the kitchen, nearly knocking the plate of waffles from Bobby’s hands. “Would ya… sit down you overgrown moose!” Bobby growled, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

Dean grabbed a slice of bacon and headed for the refrigerator. He bent over to peer in the back, pushing bottles of beer aside until he finally found what he was looking for. “Awesome,” Dean grinned, dancing back to the table with his prize. He threw a waffle on his plate, doused it in maple syrup, crumbled a few slices of bacon on top, and topped the whole thing off with a mountain of whipped cream. He joyfully cut off a large hunk and shoved the whole thing in his mouth.

“Dude,” Sam admonished.

Dean looked up to find both Sam and Bobby staring at him. “Whanf?” He beamed around his mouthful, whipped cream still covering his lips.

“Nothing,” Sam shook his head with a smile, delicately sprinkling some freaking berries on his waffle.

Bobby snorted fondly at his boys, “You two are a couple of cracker jacks.”

Dean thrust another huge bite into his mouth, making a show of enjoying himself for Sam’s benefit. Sam just pulled his bitch face and popped a blueberry in his mouth.

*************************************

After breakfast Dean quickly got dressed and sent Sam to clean up after their stay and get the car loaded, while he went down to the shop with Bobby to check out the new guy. When they walked into the garage Metallica was blasting from the boom box in the corner and off key singing was emanating from under the hood of a sweet ’69 Charger. Dean smirked at Bobby, “Well, I like him so far.”

Bobby thumped the hood and a head poked out. “Bobby, how’s it going?” A thin man with a mullet strolled to the side of the car to join them. He was wearing a Pink Floyd shirt and carrying a beer. Dean raised his eyebrows at Bobby.

“Dean, this is Ash,” is all Bobby said.

“Hey man,” Ash greeted, extending his free hand.

“Hey,” Dean replied, torn between liking the guy’s style and making sure he was going to be a good employee for Bobby. Dean shook his hand somewhat reluctantly.

“So, Ash,” Dean started, crossing to stand in front of the engine, “What’s the problem here?” Dean glanced at Bobby as Ash ambled over. He looked like he was struggling to suppress a smile. Dean tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes, and turned his attention back to Ash. Dean’s eyes grew wide as Ash lazily rattled off the problems, including the ones he had already fixed and one that Dean hadn’t noticed himself. “Not bad,” he allowed grudgingly. He was pretty sure he heard Bobby snort behind him.

Bobby clapped Dean on the back and led him to his office in the back. “You can get back to it now, Ash,” he called over his shoulder. Bobby chuckled at Dean’s somewhat disgruntled expression. “He’s good, huh? A bit of a fruit loop, but a bonafide genius.”

Dean acquiesced that Ash was a good replacement, he just didn’t want to be replaced. “You’ll still miss my charming wit,” Dean teased.

Bobby’s expression turned serious, “Of course I will, boy.”

Dean felt tears sting his eyes and quickly turned away, pretending to study the calendar on Bobby’s wall. He felt Bobby’s hand on his shoulder. “You two knuckleheads better keep in touch.”

Dean turned back toward Bobby, not even caring that a tear had escaped and slid down his cheek. “Sure, Bobby,” Dean choked out, gripping him tight in another fierce embrace.

*************************************

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam, who was somehow drowning out Lynyrd Skynyrd with his snoring. His face was smushed against the window of the Impala and Dean swore he saw drool. They had only been on the road a few hours, but apparently that was enough to knock Sam out. The final goodbye with Bobby had been difficult, leaving none of their faces dry, although being manly men, none of them would ever admit to that. Bobby had sent them off with some geek book on Mythology for Sam and a classic Grateful Dead album for Dean. He couldn’t wait to try it out on the awesome set-up Castiel had shown him in his new bedroom.

Dean cranked the music and laughed when Sammy jolted awake, trailing a string of drool from his mouth to the window. “You’re gonna clean that,” Dean pointed to the smeared window and Sam rolled his eyes and wiped his sleeve across his mouth, “Yeah yeah. Turn the music down, will ya?”

Dean turned it down, but only slightly, “I’m hungry. You hungry?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Sam allowed, stretching his long limbs as much as he could in the tight space.

“I passed a sign for the ‘Slam Monster’. I think it’s coming up at the next exit.”

“And what is a ‘Slam Monster’?” Sam wrinkled his nose at the thought.

Dean grinned, “A triple quarter-pounder with double cheese, a half-pound of bacon, chili, and onion rings.”

Sam gave Dean a sour look, “You’re disgusting.”

************************************

Since Sammy had napped most of the day, he offered to drive through the night so they didn’t have to stop at a motel. Dean was anxious to get there too, so he let his little brother take a few hours. Unfortunately that meant Sam got to pick the music, which, as Sam pointed out to Dean’s chagrin, was his own rule. Dean winced as Sam hooked up various contraptions to allow his iPod to play through the car speakers.

“I swear if Justin Beiber comes out of that thing I’m going to throw it out the window,” Dean threatened. Sam stuck his tongue out but then guiltily skipped a couple of songs before a scratchy female voice began crooning at them. Dean rolled his eyes and settled back in his seat to try to get a nap in.  
He dreamt about pie; and a certain blue-eyed pie man.

**********************************

Sam jostled him awake a few hours later. “Dean! Look!”

Dean grumbled but wiped his eyes and looked up to see that they were parked in front of a large sign proclaiming: World’s Largest Glow Bracelet Ball! He had to reread it before turning to Sam. “What the hell is a glow bracelet ball?”

Sam shrugged with a huge grin, “Let’s go find out!”

Dean sighed but climbed out of the Impala and followed Sam to what looked suspiciously like a corn field. Sam was already reading a small plaque in front of the stalks. He turned to Dean excitedly, “It’s in the corn.”

“It’s in the corn…” Dean repeated slowly.

“Yeah, come on!”

Dean followed, grumbling, “If we run into Isaac in here, I’m telling him to take you first.”

Sam laughed and Dean smiled a little as he trudged through a small winding path in the corn, following his crazy brother. After a few minutes they suddenly stumbled out into a large clearing in the middle of the corn and there, on a pedestal of sorts, was a giant ball of glow bracelets twined together. They gave off a gentle pastel luminosity in various colors.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Dean said, “A glow bracelet ball.”

“Now see?” Sam was smug. “Aren’t you glad we stopped?”

“Oh yeah, I wouldn’t have led a complete life without seeing this first.”

Sam ignored his sarcasm and took a couple pictures on his phone. Dean peered over his shoulder and had to admit it looked kind of cool in the pictures at least. “So… are we done here? I’m hungry.”

“Shocker,” Sam remarked as they headed back to the car.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks to Sam helping out with the driving, and Dean’s breakneck speeds when he was behind the wheel, they were only a couple hours out by the next morning.  The closer they got, the more questions Sam was asking about the apartment.  Dean dodged some and gave vague answers for others, still not wanting to spoil the surprise.  He smirked to himself.  Sam probably thought his evasiveness was because the apartment was a complete dump. 

Dean contemplated the feelings that seemed to be escalating in him with each mile that took them closer.  Sure he was excited to surprise Sam with the apartment, but that didn’t account for the virtual Carnivale going on in his stomach, or the tingling feeling throughout his body, or the almost giddy lightheadedness at envisioning their arrival.  He finally had to admit to himself that these sensations increased when Castiel entered his thoughts.  Dean knew it was a waste of time, since Balthazar had made his claim to the pie man quite clear, but he couldn’t help what seemed to be a primal reaction within him whenever he thought about blue eyes, full lips, and messy black hair.

Sam’s incessant questioning was almost a welcome distraction.  Dean finally grabbed a mix tape from the glove box that he had made, filled with songs that both he and Sam actually agreed on.  They spent the rest of the trip singing loudly along with the music, being as obnoxious as possible.  The goofy bonding with his brother allowed him to relax slightly for the remainder of the trip. 

Dean purposely drove to the campus first, so that he could take Sam on the same walking route that he had first taken to see the apartment.  Sam was practically bouncing in his seat to see the campus again.  He had only been able to see it briefly once, during the application process.  Dean grinned, “You can show me all around campus once you get settled.”  Sam nodded excitedly.  He had already approved of Dean’s idea of making the short walk to the apartment before coming back to retrieve the trailer with their stuff.

Dean parked in the same lot as before and laughed as Sam bounded from the Impala.  “Which way, Dean?”  Dean rolled his eyes and pretended to grumble, but he was just as excited as Sam, if for different reasons, and he knew Sam could tell.  They headed up the block, Dean pointing out a few of the sights he had seen last time, including the Roadhouse, which appeared to be open even at 10am.  Sam seemed thrilled by all of it.

When they finally rounded the corner and Sam saw the giant pie-shaped building, he laughed. “Dean, look!  You didn’t see this before?”

Dean just grinned at him and Sam gaped at him a moment.  “No…” He said incredulously.  “This isn’t…?”  Dean just nodded, still beaming.  “You must be in heaven!”  Sam exclaimed.  His expression suddenly became skeptical, “Please tell me you didn’t just pick an apartment because it was above a pie shop?” 

Dean laughed, “Come on, bitch.”  He heard Sam mutter the obligatory, “jerk,” as he followed him across the street.  Dean opened the door and he swore something fluttered inside of him at the sound of that damn bell.  He ignored it and ushered Sam inside, who took in the bright interior with raised eyebrows and a smile.  “Really?” 

Dean shoved him lightly, “It’s not like we’re going to live in the pie shop.  And trust me, once you taste the pie, it’s kind of… cheery.”

Sam snorted and turned back towards the counter only to come face-to-face with a scowling Balthazar; well, chest to face.  Dean kind of got a kick over the fact that Balthazar had to tilt his head up to meet Sam’s eyes.  Balthazar’s scowl deepened when he noticed Dean behind Sam.  “Oh good,” he drawled dryly, “You’re back.”

Dean flashed him his “I’m adorable and I know it” grin, “That’s right.  And since we’re neighbors, we’ll probably be seeing _a lot_ of each other.”  Dean clapped him on the shoulder obnoxiously.  If this guy wanted to play it that way, Dean could be an ass too.  Sam looked over at Dean curiously but turned his attention back to Balthazar, wearing his “happy puppy” face and extending a hand.  “Hi, I’m Sam.”  Balthazar grudgingly took it and Dean thought he almost saw him smile.  Dean smirked, he knew how hard it was to resist Sam’s guileless grin.

Before any other not-so-disguised jabs could be exchanged, Castiel emerged from the kitchen.  He noticed the small group and headed towards them, a warm smile directed at Dean.  Dean’s own smile immediately brightened.  As the baker got closer, Dean realized that quite a large amount of flour was dusting his dark hair and some sort of fruit jam was smeared across one cheek.  Dean had to stop himself from wiping it off with his thumb. 

“Dean,” Castiel greeted simply, his blue eyes piercing right through Dean.  Luckily, he soon turned his gaze on Sam, “And this must be, Sam.”

Sam nodded, shooting a quick look at Dean before directing his open smile to Castiel. 

“I am Castiel.”  He offered his hand to Sam, after dusting it briefly on his apron.  “I see you have already met Balthazar.” 

Balthazar stepped closer to Castiel, his eyes on Dean. “Oh yeah,” Dean enthused, “he was just telling us how happy he is to have us here.”  He winked at Balthazar and received another scowl in return. 

“Wonderful,” Castiel exclaimed, oblivious of the tension.  “I have your keys right here.”  He lifted up his apron to reach in his pocket and Dean caught a glimpse of smooth white skin as his T-shirt pulled up slightly too.  Castiel fumbled in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a ring of keys.  He slid four off, handing two to Sam and two to Dean.  “One is for the building and one is for your apartment,” he explained as he readjusted his apron.  “You can enter right here through the pie shop and go up the back stairs that I showed you earlier,” his eyes remained focused on Dean’s again, “Or there is an outside door around the side that takes you directly to the front stairs. That is also the stairwell that leads to the basement parking garage.  You’re welcome to use whatever entrance you are more comfortable with, at any time.”

Castiel finally looked away, glancing at Sam, and Dean felt like he could breath again.  He was hoping the few days he had spent away would have decreased the intensity of his reaction to Castiel, but apparently they had had no impact at all.  Dean still couldn’t explain it to himself, it was fucking ridiculous actually, but he figured with time, it had to go away. 

“Why don’t you take Sam up and show him around?”  Castiel smiled at Dean.  Dean nodded gratefully.  Somehow Castiel understood that this was a family moment for the brothers.  “We’ll be here if you need us.” Dean felt a sharp stab of jealousy as Castiel placed his hand on the small of Balthazar’s back and turned them both back toward the kitchen.  He didn’t realize he was still staring after them until Sam elbowed him in the ribs. 

“Ow,” Dean complained, rubbing at his side.

Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean then looked pointedly at the swinging kitchen door that Castiel and Balthazar had disappeared through.  “So that’s the ‘landlord’, huh?”

Dean could hear the air quotes and sighed, “Yeah, so?”

“You didn’t say much about him,” Sam said casually. 

Dean shrugged, “Wasn’t much to say” he lied. “Come on, lemme show you the apartment,” he continued before Sam could say anything else. 

***********************************

Dean was sitting on the floor in the large living room, his back against the oversized window.  He was grinning from ear to ear.  He had been watching Sam run around the apartment for twenty minutes now, exclaiming over various aspects of the space as he found them.  Dean had followed him around initially, but finally settled in the living room.  He could hear Sam’s booming voice throughout the apartment after all, and his brother kept flitting from room to room. Dean couldn’t keep up.

“Dean, look at these bookshelves!”

“Dean, these windows are huge!”

“Dean, there’s an icemaker in the door!”

“Dean, you can see the pie crust from here!”

“Dean, I get my own room?!”

“Dean, I can fit under the shower head!”

“Dean, there’s a pool!”

“Dean, there’s a hot tub!”

“Technically it’s a jetted, whirlpool bathtub,” Dean called out.

“Dean, we have a jetted, whirlpool bathbub!”

“Dean, look at the size of this closet!”

“Dean, there’s an iPod jack too!”

“Don’t even think about,” Dean shouted, “Vinyl and cassettes only in that room!”

Sam finally loped back into the living and plopped on the floor next to Dean.  “This apartment is amazing!”  He leaned his head back against the window and sighed contentedly.  They sat there for a few minutes, just enjoying the moment.  Sam suddenly turned to Dean, but he spoke quietly, “Dean, how can we afford this?”

Dean laughed, “Trust me, Sammy, I’ve asked myself the same question a few times now.  Best I can tell is Castiel is a little odd, but well meaning.  The rent here is dirt-cheap.  We really lucked out.”

“Maybe it’s fate,” Sam suggested. 

“Right,” Dean snorted, “It’s our destiny to live in this particular apartment and use the jetted, whirlpool bathtub.”

  
************************************

It only took the boys a couple of hours to empty their small trailer.  They were able to park it right outside the side door and take the side stairs up, which emptied onto the other end of the hallway than the stairs that came straight from the pie shop.  Their belongings didn’t begin to fill up the large space, other than Sam’s bookshelves, which filled up rather quickly.  And their well-worn furniture looked out of place, but Dean didn’t care.  It still all seemed perfect.

Dean was emptying a box in the kitchen and wondering why they had so many coffee mugs when he heard a soft knock at the door.  He found Castiel on the other side.  “Hey, Castiel,” Dean greeted, “Come on in.” 

“Thank you Dean,” Castiel responded, returning Dean’s smile as he wandered toward the kitchen.  The baker was still sporting the flour in his hair, but the smear of jam on his cheek had been replaced by a smear of chocolate on his nose.  “I just wanted to make sure everything was ok; see if you needed anything.”

“Everything’s great,” Dean assured him, “Sam’s loving it.  Thanks so much.”

Castiel made a dismissive gesture as he idly picked up a coffee cup off the counter in front of him.  “I wuv hugs?”  He held the cup up to Dean with a teasing grin.  

  


**“I have no idea where we got that,” Dean insisted with a laugh.**

Castiel raised an eyebrow and set the mug back on the counter.  “I thought you and Sam might like to go to dinner tonight.  Sort of a celebration.” 

Dean hesitated.  While he would love the opportunity for both him and Sam to get to know Cas better, he assumed Balthazar would be there too, and the guy obviously had a problem with him.  Looking at Cas smiling at him so sincerely though, Dean couldn’t bring himself to say no.  He figured he and Balthazar would have to get used to each other at some point anyway.  “Sure, Cas.  That sounds great.”  He smiled back.

Cas tilted his slightly, his eyes sparkling a little more than usual at Dean.  “Cas?” 

Dean realized he had only used the nickname in his head up till now.  He’d just met the guy, he probably that it was weird that Dean had already given him a nickname. “Oh, sorry, man… I meant Castiel.”

Cas pursed his lips as if he were seriously considering something, “No Dean, I like it.  You may call me Cas.”

Dean grinned.  The solemn declaration was a bit strange, but Dean was beginning to realize that that was just Cas, “All right… Cas.”

Cas nodded his approval.  “Now about dinner.  There is a diner not too far from here.  They have a wide selection, but I particularly like their cheeseburgers.  Perhaps it would be easiest if we all just went together?”

“Sounds good,” Dean agreed, trying not to get too excited over the fact that Cas also liked cheeseburgers, just like probably 90% of the population.  Dean almost rolled his eyes at himself.  He was like a fucking schoolgirl with a crush. 

“I will come for you at seven then?”  Castiel confirmed in his oddly formal way.

“What’s at seven?” Sam asked cheerfully as he walked in from the hallway. 

“Dinner,” Dean replied brightly, “Castiel will come for us,” there was a teasing in his voice, but he knew only Sam would recognize it.

Sam grinned, “Sounds good.”

“That is what Dean said,” Castiel noted, looking between the two brothers.  “I will let you get back to your… mugs,” Castiel winked at Dean as he headed out the door. 

Dean watched him walk away, enjoying it way too much.  When he turned back after Cas pulled the door closed behind him, Sam was staring at him, eyebrows raised.  “What?” Dean asked, a little too defensively.

“Nothing,” Sam smirked, “He seems nice.”

Dean had no choice but to ignore the meaning behind Sam’s words, even though they both knew he got it, not unless he wanted to sit down and discuss his _feelings_ .  He shot a glare at him though as he turned back to the coffee mugs.  

**************************************

 

There was soft knock on the door precisely at seven, according to Sam’s atomic nerd clock.  “Sam!”  Dean called from his room.  “Yeah, I got it,” he heard Sam call back.  Dean returned to staring into his closet.  He had been staring in his closet for ten minutes now, trying to find a decent shirt to put on.  When he heard Cas’s voice coming from the living room he realized he was acting like a prepubescent girl again, and just grabbed a random t-shirt, tugging it impatiently over his head.  He walked down the hall to join Sam and his “new neighbors.”

When he entered the room, Dean was surprised to see that Balthazar wasn’t there, clinging to Cas while he glared at Dean.  “Oh hey, Cas.”  Dean greeted.  He saw Sam raise his eyebrows at the nickname, but ignored him.  He pondered shaving them off while Sam slept.  “Where’s Balthazar?”  Dean had to work to keep his face from wrinkling while saying the name. 

“He was not able to make it, he has rehearsal tonight,” Castiel replied.  Dean noticed that his was the first time he had seen the baker not covered in food of some kind.  He was dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a crisp red polo shirt.  His hair was still a messy mop on his head, but it was now flour free. 

“Rehearsal?” Sam asked, as they all started out of the apartment and down the hall. 

“Balthazar is very involved in local theater.  He is directing a play right now that opens in a few weeks,” Castiel responded as they made their way down the stairs.  They reached the outside door and Castiel politely held it open for the brothers.  Dean immediately headed toward the Impala out of habit.  “This is your car?”  Castiel’s gaze swept across the vehicle. 

“Yep,” Dean said proudly, “Oh, but if you wanted to drive…”

Castiel shook his head with a smile, “No I think I would take pleasure in riding in your car, it is very nice.”  Dean swallowed.  Somehow the statement sounded dirty despite Cas’s sincere expression. 

Sam offered Cas the front seat, but Cas insisted that Sam take it, telling him he needed the leg room.  He climbed easily into the back seat, sitting down behind Dean.  Once they were all settled, Castiel gave Dean the address and Dean put the car in gear. 

Dean had to force himself to keep his eyes on the road, but they kept flicking up to catch a glimpse of Cas in the rearview mirror. He could feel Cas’s gaze on the back of his neck, causing his hair to prickle.  He could also see Sammy shooting glances at him out of the corner of his eye.  He tried to loosen his grip on the steering wheel and relax.  He still couldn’t figure out the strong, almost visceral, primal, reaction he seemed to have whenever Cas was around.

Sam and Cas started up a conversation, something about art, but Dean couldn’t focus.  He drove silently as Cas’s deep gravelly voice grated through him, somehow more powerful in the confines of the car.  There seemed to be nothing about this man that didn’t completely turn him on.

Dean turned right onto the street that Cas had named.  “What was this place called?”  He asked, glancing up to find Castiel meeting his eyes in the mirror.  It took effort to return his eyes to the road and not kill them all.  “Connor’s Diner,” came the reply.  Dean recognized the name.  It was the diner with the perky waitress that he had stopped at shortly before meeting Cas.  “They do have good cheeseburgers,” Dean grinned as he parked in front of the familiar diner.  He met Cas’s eyes in the mirror again.  He was jolted out of his reverie when Sam cleared his throat loudly and pushed the car door open. 

Dean broke the gaze and exited the car as well.  “So, you’ve been here?” Castiel finally asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean led the way to the door, opening it and stepping aside, just as Cas had done earlier for him.  Sam rolled his eyes as he passed, but Castiel smiled politely.  “Thank you, Dean.”

“I stopped here for lunch before coming to see you… your apartment, actually,” Dean explained as they slid into a booth.  Dean was too chicken to sit next to Cas, so he pushed Sam over, forcing his way next to his brother.

The same perky waitress that had waited on Dean the first time came over and they ordered.  Dean and Cas both went with the bacon cheeseburger and Sam a freaking salad of course.  Cas folded his hands on the table as the waitress walked away.  “I enjoy AC/DC,” he commented.  Dean was pretty sure he had never heard an affinity for AC/DC expressed so formally, if not so out of the blue.  Cas gestured to his shirt at his confused look.  Dean looked down, “Oh, uh yeah, me too,” he answered lamely.  Like that wasn’t already obvious. 

Dean finally started to relax a little when their food arrived.  It was hard not to, once he took a bite of that heavenly cheeseburger.  He grinned around his food at Cas, who seemed to be enjoying his just as much.  Castiel grinned back, “these make me very happy,” he asserted, taking another big bite.  Dean watched him chew, thinking it was almost pornographic. 

“The salad is good too,” Sam chimed in.  Dean rolled his eyes, but Cas smiled at him politely, “I’m glad you like it, Sam.”

As they ate, Cas told them a little about how he opened the Pie Hole.  Dean kept peppering him with questions, wanting to know everything about him.  When Dean had asked him, “Why pie?”  Cas’s smile had faltered a little and he looked down at his plate, fiddling with a fry. 

“I’m sorry,” Dean quickly apologized, “I didn’t mean…”

“No, it’s ok,” Castiel assured him, “It’s… the smell of a pie baking is basically the only memory I have of my mother.  She died when I was very young.”  He smiled a sad smile at Dean.  Dean kind of grimaced back, not sure what to say.

“Wow, sorry, Castiel,” Sam said softly.  Dean looked over and saw the sad look in his eyes too.  Sam could probably relate.  In fact, he didn’t have any memories of Mary to hold on to.  He might have been jealous that Cas at least had pie.

Dean patted a hand on Sam’s knee under the table, knowing he wouldn’t want attention brought to him.  Sam looked down at his salad.  Dean wished he could reach across the table and give Cas a comforting pat too, but he settled for a sympathetic smile.  “You must feel closer to her when you bake,” Dean guessed.

A bit of the sadness left Castiel’s expression.  He smiled at Dean and nodded, seeming to be grateful that Dean had understood that.  He looked closer at Dean. “I think she would have liked you,” he observed somewhat matter-of-factly, his smile growing a little brighter. 

“I think I would have liked her too,” Dean responded honestly.  He didn’t know why he was so sure about that, knowing nothing about her.  They gazed at each other a moment longer before Castiel picked up his burger again.  He asked Sam about school and the conversation stayed on that topic for the rest of the meal. 

When the waitress returned to inquire about dessert, Dean started to order pie but then felt like he was cheating on Cas or something.  He quickly switched his order to pi-neapple upside down cake and ignored Sam’s raised eyebrow.   Castiel declined dessert and Sam ordered fruit, which didn’t even count as a dessert if you asked Dean. 

“So why law, Sam?”  Castiel asked, taking a sip of his water.  Somehow he made it seem like everything Sam or Dean said was fascinating.  Sam, of course, got all excited and started babbling away.  Dean wasn’t really listening to the words, just the enthusiasm, as he watched Sam begin to gush.  He was so damn proud of his little brother and grateful that he got to chase his dream.  He glanced across the table and noticed Cas had been watching him, watching Sam, an odd expression on his face; like he was trying to figure out a really hard math problem.  Dean couldn’t tear his eyes from the inscrutable blue ones across from him.

Castiel finally slid his eyes back to Sam, releasing Dean from the weird magnetic pull.  The baker nodded at Sam politely. “I think so too,” he replied to whatever Sam had been saying.  Dean finished his cake.  He couldn’t help sneaking glances at Castiel, but the blues eyes stayed firmly fixed to Sam as they continued their conversation.  

**********************************

 

The ride home was quiet, but that comfortable, contented kind of quiet.  Dean purposefully put in an AC/DC cassette, but kept the volume low.  He occasionally heard Cas humming along from the back seat.  When they arrived back home, Cas directed Dean to the underground parking entrance for the building.  The building spanned the whole block and the entrance was at the other end from the pie shop.  He showed Dean the slot assigned to their apartments.  “There are several other businesses and residents in the building of course.”  He gestured to a row of slots next to where Dean had parked.  “These spots are assigned to the Pie Hole, but you may use them if you have guests or something.” 

Dean nodded, “Thanks, man.”

Castiel led the way back up to their hallway.  “I have sort of a… house warming gift, also,” he announced as they arrived at their respective doors on either side of the hallway. 

“Cas, you didn’t have to do that.  You’ve already done too much,” Dean insisted. 

“I wanted to,” Castiel replied simply.  “I found it yesterday and knew you would be arriving soon.  It just seemed… perfect.”

Dean didn’t know what to say to that.  Luckily, Cas was already headed into his apartment to retrieve whatever it was.  Dean glanced at Sam a little awkwardly.  “Well that’s nice of him.”

Sam smiled and raised those damn eyebrows again as he unlocked their door, “Yeah, really _thoughtful_ .”

Castiel returned before Dean could respond with some withering insult.  He was carrying two large rectangular objects by what looked like wire handles.  The objects themselves were wrapped in colorful paper and Dean wondered what they were.  Cas nodded toward the open door to their apartment, “Do you mind?” 

“Sure, Castiel,” Sam replied, leading the way.  Castiel waited until Sam and Dean were settled on the couch before presenting them each with one of the items, placing it on the floor in front of their feet.  “They’re really a set, but this way you can each open one.”

Dean immediately tore into the paper, curious what could have been so perfect that Castiel had to buy it for him… uh, them.  He gasped as the paper fell away and he saw what lay beneath.  It was a large black stone plaque with a cast of a majestic angel wing across it.  Dean glanced over and saw that Sam held the matching wing in front of him. 

“Cas… this is… they’re amazing!” Dean gushed a little more, ok a lot more, than was normal for him, but he really did think they were gorgeous, and yeah, somehow they _were_ perfect.  Dean didn’t know why but they reminded him of Cas.  He finally tore his eyes away from the wings and looked up at Cas, “Thank you.  So much.  They really are perfect.”  Dean said sincerely.

Castiel blushed a little but he looked pleased.  “I’m glad you like them.  I hope you don’t mind but I already installed the hardware to hang them.”  He gestured toward a spot on the wall closest to the floor to ceiling windows at the end of the room.  “I thought they should be close to the sky,” he explained somewhat sheepishly.

Dean couldn’t get rid of the stupid grin on his face as he and Sam carried their plaques over and hung them by the wire onto the hooks that Cas had installed.  They looked even more gorgeous hanging next to each other like that.  Even Sam seemed impressed and he didn’t have a raging crush on the gift-giver. 

“They really do look cool,” Sam said, “thanks!”

 

Dean thought cool didn’t even begin to cover it, but he couldn’t think of any words that would do them justice.  “Thanks,” he repeated softly.

*********************************

 

After Cas left, Dean sat against the window on the floor, just staring at the wings for a while.  They really needed to put a chair here.  After a while Sam came and sat beside him.  He was silent at first, but Dean knew what was coming.

“Just say it, Sam,” Dean sighed. 

“Just wanted to say goodnight.  I’m getting up early to go get my books tomorrow.”  Sam gave Dean a little nudge.  “Thanks for everything man, this apartment is really great.”  He climbed to his feet and headed for the hallway.  As he disappeared through the door, he looked back at Dean briefly, “and I really like Castiel.”

“Good _night_ , Sam!” Dean called after him pointedly.  He’d known Sam wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut completely, but at least he hadn’t wanted to have a big ‘ole ‘feelings’ discussion about it.

Dean stared at the wings a while longer before deciding he was pining away like a teenage girl.  He guilted himself into going to bed, even if it was stupid early.  He had to figure out a way to get over this ridiculous crush.  It was becoming way too distracting, and the guy was already taken.  It took Dean a while to drift off, and when he finally did, he dreamt of blue eyes and angel wings.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Link to the angel wings pictured in this chapter to give credit to the amazing artist:   [http://www.etsy.com/listing/98339537/cast-cement-stone-angel-wings-two-wall?ref=sr_gallery_15&ga_search_query=angel+wings&ga_order=most_relevant&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_ship_to=ZZ&ga_min=0&ga_max=0&ga_search_type=handmade](http://www.etsy.com/listing/98339537/cast-cement-stone-angel-wings-two-wall?ref=sr_gallery_15&ga_search_query=angel+wings&ga_order=most_relevant&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_ship_to=ZZ&ga_min=0&ga_max=0&ga_search_type=handmade)


	4. Chapter 4

“Castiel, you never came to bed, darling.” Castiel looked up from his dough to see Balthazar’s concerned face and sunlight streaming in the kitchen.

“Oh… I must have lost track of time, I’m sorry.”

Balthazar moved behind him and wrapped strong arms around his waist. “Is everything okay?”

Castiel sighed, leaning back into Balthazar a little. “Yes, I suppose I was just a little restless last night, so I came down to get some work done and time just… got away from me. Balthazar kissed the back of his neck and he shivered. He turned around in Balthazar’s arms and kissed him lightly. “I’m sorry.”

Balthazar gave a small smile, “It’s all right, darling, I was just worried about you. I’m off to the gym for an early workout. Care to join me?”

Castiel shook his head, “No thanks. You wouldn’t want all those hot gym bodies to know you have a boyfriend,” he teased. Balthazar was somewhat naturally flirtatious, but Castiel was okay with it. It never went further and he always came home to him.

Balthazar smacked him lightly on his rear as he pulled away. “You know I’d love to show you off.”

Castiel watched him leave and then returned to his dough. There was actually something bothering him, but nothing he could discuss with Balthazar, which was unusual for them, and Castiel didn’t like it.

Castiel had been searching for his father for the past year. For some reason Balthazar was unhappy with this and it put a strain on their relationship whenever Castiel brought it up. Eventually he had stopped trying. It was hard to deal with it on his own sometimes though. He didn’t really have anyone in his life besides Balthazar. Just as Castiel thought about how that might have changed very recently, he heard footsteps in the empty dining room. He brushed some flour off his hands onto his apron and left the kitchen to see Sam Winchester with his usual welcoming smile.

“Good morning, Sam,” Castiel greeted with his own smile.

“Morning, Castiel,” Sam returned. “I hope you don’t mind, I was looking for some breakfast. We haven’t made it to the store yet.”

“Of course, come on back to the kitchen.” Castiel was glad for the company actually. “This is the pie we have leftover from yesterday, you’re welcome to whatever you want. Would you like some coffee or tea?”

Sam grinned as he inspected his choices, each one neatly labeled. “Tea would be great. Whatever you have.”

Castiel nodded and turned to the stove to heat the water. Sam pulled a stool up to the central workspace where Cas spent most of his time. He had a plate with a slice of cherry and a slice of peach plum. Castiel handed him a fork and napkin and sat across from him with a smile.

“Thanks so much, Castiel, this is awesome. I promise I won’t make a habit of it.” Sam dug in with the same enthusiasm that Dean did.

“I wouldn’t mind if you made a habit of it at all, Sam. In fact, I would enjoy the company. I usually come in early to begin the baking and it is very quiet in this big kitchen all by myself.” Castiel assured him.

“In that case, I better start a tab,” Sam laughed.

“No, no, I wouldn’t hear of it,” Castiel protested. “Usually these pies would just be thrown away since they’re from yesterday. I hate the waste though, so every day I take the leftovers to a homeless shelter not far from here.”

“Wow, that’s so nice,” Sam said.

Castiel shrugged, embarrassed, “Anyone would do the same. Why waste food?”  
Sam just smiled at him and Castiel was grateful when the tea kettle whistled. He got up to pour Sam’s tea and set the cup down in front of him. “What are you doing up so early anyway?”

“Going to get my books today,” Sam grinned, clearly excited.

Castiel returned to his stool. “What class are you looking forward to the most?” He listened happily as Sam enthused about school and ate his pie. It really was nice to have some company. The whole kitchen seemed brighter with Sam’s energy. As Sam’s story came to a close, a comfortable silence fell between them. After a while though, Castiel had to resist the sudden urge to ask Sam about his big brother. Thankfully he didn’t have to resist long, because Sam excused himself after another thank you and left for the campus. He stared at the empty stool for a moment, before sighing and taking his apron off. He figured a quick swim before he had to open the shop might help him relax a little.

***************************************************

Castiel stepped out onto the roof in his board shorts, a towel over his shoulder. He closed his eyes and turned his face to the warmth of the early morning sun for a moment. “Cas?” Castiel started, and looked across the pool to see Dean sitting, legs crossed underneath him, on one of the lounge chairs. His green eyes were wide, sparkling like emeralds in the sunlight. It took Castiel a moment to find his breath. “Good morning, Dean. What brings you out so early?” Castiel walked across the rooftop and around the pool to sit in the chair next to Dean.

Castiel watched Dean lick his lips and then flash a dazzling lopsided smile. “Just doing a little writing,” He waved a small notebook in the air.

“You write?” Castiel smiled. Somehow that seemed to be at odds with, and yet perfectly fit, the puzzle of Dean that Castiel was trying to fit together.

Dean flushed a little and Castiel noticed that it brought out his freckles. “Nothing that’s any good.”

“I doubt that,” Castiel replied sincerely.

Dean shrugged and tucked the notebook under one knee. “What about you? Are you one of those annoying morning people?”

Castiel smiled, recognizing the teasing tone in Dean’s voice. “Yes I suppose I am. I have to get up early to open the shop. Sam kept me company this morning actually.”

Castiel tilted his head when Dean flushed deeper at that. He was at 14 when he realized he was counting freckles. “Oh sorry, I’ll tell him not to bother your when you’re working…”

“It’s fine Dean. As I told him, I enjoy the company,” Castiel assured him. “He seemed excited to get his school books.”

Dean grinned easily at that, practically glowing with pride, just as he did every time Sam’s schooling was mentioned. “Yeah he’s a freaking geek.” Castiel was beginning to realize that Dean often meant the opposite of what he said and just as often, used potential insults as terms of endearment. Castiel watched Dean curiously as he assessed this.

Suddenly Dean stood. “I’ll get out of your way; looks like you were going to go for a swim.” Castiel opened his mouth to protest, but Dean was already hurrying to the stairwell. “I have a million errands to run anyway,” he added before disappearing. Castiel stared at the closed door for some time before finally setting his towel aside and diving into the pool. He swam so many laps he almost didn’t open the pie shop on time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Dean berated himself all the way down the stairs. What was up with the effect this guy had on him? Dean was the first to admit he was normally downright cocky with someone he had an interest in. This was getting ridiculous. He couldn’t freak out every time the guy just looked at him. Well, stared into his soul, but whatever. Dean sighed and tossed his notebook on his bed. He really did have a lot to do. First on the list was to find a job. He’d hit the store on the way home. He glanced at his watch. It was still pretty damn early. Maybe a cold shower first.

****************************************************************

Dean decided that job hunting was way worse than apartment hunting. He knew he didn’t have many skills, but he was a damn good mechanic and stupidly thought that’d make it easy to find a decent job. Now it was four o’clock in the afternoon and he was nursing a beer on a stool at the Roadhouse. He couldn’t even muster up the energy to flirt with the hot blonde bartender, who’d offered that her name was Jo on one of her trips to ‘see if he needed anything’.

Dean looked at her a bit sullenly when she leaned across from him over the bar again. “Dude, you look like somebody just shot your puppy…” Dean narrowed his eyes, “Thanks for the assessment.”

“Well what is it?” Jo asked perkily, undeterred. It reminded Dean of Sam’s annoyingly incessant cheerfulness.

“Job hunting,” Dean replied shortly, taking a long swig of his beer.

“Well what can you do?”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Apparently nothing.”

Jo hopped up on the bar and swung her legs over the side. “Can you make a drink?”

Dean raised an eyebrow and looked at her suspiciously. “Yeah sure.”

Jo grinned, “Then you’re hired. Nights. Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays.”

Dean looked at her in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? Just like that?” What was with the people in this town? He almost asked if she was related to an insanely hot pie maker.

Jo hopped off the bar again. “I start night class next week and we’re always busy on weekends. You’re hot. You’ll bring in all those sorority bimbos.” She winked at him.

Dean laughed, “Well yeah. All right.” He’d still have to find a full time day job, but this was a good start, especially if he could manage good tips. He stuck his hand out. “Dean by the way.”

Jo grinned and shook his hand firmly. “Nice to meet you Dean. You start Friday. Screw up and my mom’ll kill you.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow but grinned back. “I’ll uh… keep that in mind…”

*****************************************************

By the time Dean got home, laden down with groceries, Sam was already there, pouring through his books on the couch. “Dude you are such a geek,” Dean laughed. “Help me put this stuff away.”

Sam practically bounded over, chattering about the campus and the book store and the library and a few kids he already met. Dean just shook his head fondly, thrilled that Sam was so excited. “Yeah okay, Doogie, well your big brother found a job.”

“That’s great Dean!” Sam enthused. Of course he probably would have reacted the same way if Dean had said he found a penny on the ground, with the mood he was in.

“Thanks,” Dean replied anyway. “Go call and bore Bobby with all this shit while I make dinner.” Sam nodded happily and bounced away again, no small feat for a yeti.

Bobby sounded suspiciously broken up when Sam handed the phone to Dean after talking his ear off for a good half hour. Dinner was about ready. “Hey Bobby.” Dean tucked the cell into his shoulder as he set the table. “Yeah, I got a job. Bartending… should be decent tips but I’m still gonna look for a garage out here.” He managed not to laugh out loud at Bobby’s petulant snort. “There won’t be anything like yours of course… but I’ll make do.”

They spoke for a few more minutes as Dean finished up dinner and got it on the table. Bobby told Dean that Ash had found some loophole to raise prices by hardly anything but somehow it added up to a lot more revenue. “Long as it’s legit,” Dean chimed in. The call ended with a soft “Take care kid,” and then Dean was the one blinking back tears as he hung up.

“Dinner, Sam!” Dean called. His brother was there in a flash and they sat down to eat. It was kind of a tradition of theirs to sit down and eat together at least a few days a week as their schedules allowed. Dean supposed it helped them both have semblance of a normal family life.

Sam took a large bite. “So I had a little chat with Castiel today…” He announced way too casually.

“Mmhmm…” Dean mumbled around his food, focusing on his plate and resisting the urge to ask if Cas had mentioned him. He was steadily turning more and more into a teenage girl when it came to this guy.

“He donates left over pies to a homeless shelter every day,” Sam continued, undeterred.

“That’s nice,” Dean replied, noncommittally.

“He mentioned that he gets lonely when he’s baking early in the morning,” Sam didn’t even try to hide his grin when Dean’s head snapped up.

Dean scowled, “So what? Why would I care? I don’t even like mornings….” It was a lame argument and they both knew it. Thankfully, Sam left it there and returned to babbling about school for the rest of the meal.

Dean returned to the rooftop with his notebook when Sam disappeared to his room to ‘look at his books’, whatever the fuck that meant. He settled into the same lounge chair as before and enjoyed the cool night air a moment before he opened the notebook and started writing.

Dean had started writing when he was still in grade school. Sometimes it was poems, sometimes short stories, or later longer ones too, sometimes just random phrases or words that he just needed to get out. He wrote about Missouri’s battle with cancer and her eventual death in a ‘What did you do this summer?’ paper at the beginning of his eighth grade year. He was sent to the school counselor and threatened with suspension. He never wrote anything for school again and no one ever saw what he wrote. Not even Sam. He just filled notebook after notebook with words. Words he just had to get out for some reason. He kept most of them in the trunk of the Impala, the only thing that had been with him all these years. When he finished a notebook it was tossed in with the others. He never looked at them again.

Occasionally some rough sketches adorned the margins, but words were Dean’s true medium, his passion really. He wasn’t sure it was totally normal. Sure Sam liked to read, but to Dean language was more than just a way to get meaning out. Words had their own personalities. The way they looked, what letters were used, the way they sounded, the way your mouth had to move to create those sounds. All of that was important to him. The sound of language, the cadence and tempo, all of that was just as important as the meaning, and when all the aspects were manipulated to mesh beautifully it almost gave him chills.

As Dean stared at his notebook, pen tapping on his cheek, he wondered if that was part of the reason Castiel was so appealing to him. He spoke differently than most people. Deliberate. Using a lexicon that didn’t just contain the latest fad jargon. His voice, like slow rolling thunder, just added to it, making every word sound like it thoroughly enjoyed being swirled around in his tantalizing mouth. Like they were physical beings that Dean could swear he actually felt on his skin at times. He shivered just thinking about it. He sighed and returned pen to paper, scribbling furiously.

_Darkness descended upon the land languidly. The stars began to glimmer sleepily as the moon nudged them awake. The cool night air swept away the last lingering remnants of the heat of the day, swirling them off to be used another day. The man moving down the street didn’t seem to notice when the wind tousled his raven hair playfully on the way to its destination. Brilliant blue eyes remained unchanged as they gazed at something far beyond the street in front of him. The soft click of his shoes on the cement was welcomed into the night symphony, accompanied by the rustle of the trees, the twitter of a high flying bat out for an early breakfast. It swooped down to capture its unlucky prey, but the man took no notice, continuing his steady progress forward, ever forward._

_The night worked harder to gain his attention. The wind gusted heavily in warning, bright jewels of fall leaves swirling at his feet. He simply strode through them. Dark clouds gathered to flash with electricity as thunder rumbled ominously in the distance. The man only continued forward, the strobe of lightening reflecting in his eyes, illuminating a flash of fear hiding beneath the determination. The earth itself shuddered with the force of the next thunder strike._

“Dean?”

Dean glanced up, startled to find Cas looking at him, amusement on his face. “Oh hey, Cas.”

“Hello,” Castiel returned, a small smile playing across his lips. “May I join you?” He gestured to the chair next to Dean.

“What? Oh yeah sure. Of course,” Dean mentally kicked himself. Would he ever not sound like an idiot around this guy?

“You seem to be very absorbed in your work,” Castiel commented, blue eyes sparkling, “I called you three times.”

Dean blushed, glancing down at his notebook before quickly closing it. “Sorry.”

Castiel smiled easily. “It’s nothing to be sorry about. I’m sorry to interrupt.”

Dean got the feeling Cas wasn’t quite saying everything he wanted to. “No problem, just a story I’m working on. Don’t know where it’s going yet.” He licked his lips absently, wondering if Cas felt the weight of those words too, or if he was just insane.

Castiel nodded like he understood the natural expansion that narratives undergo, that sometimes the characters or events will take unexpected turns even for the writer. “I’m sure somewhere amazing.”

Dean laughed, “We’ll see I guess.”

Castiel nodded again, curling his legs up on the chair. “How were your errands?”

“Well I got a job, so pretty successful,” Dean grinned.

“Congratulations,” Castiel replied so warmly Dean felt like he really meant it. “Where?”

“Right up the street, The Roadhouse?”

Castiel nodded, “I’ve been there a few times. Will you be bartending?”

“Yeah. You’ll have to stop by for a drink sometime,” Dean offered, a bit too enthusiastically. “I mean, it’s the least I could do for everything you’ve done,” he added quickly.

“I haven’t done anything, Dean,” Castiel insisted, “but I will do that sometime. Is that the job you were looking for? Are you a bartender?”

Dean shrugged. “I’m whatever pays the bills. I’m hoping to find an opening at a garage too.”

“You like cars.” It wasn’t a question and for some reason Dean felt warmed by the fact that Castiel already knew this of him, and seemed to appreciate it, for God knows what reason.

“And pie,” Dean reminded him. Castiel smiled softly. “And pie,” he agreed.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while. Dean leaned back in the soft chair a little to look at the smattering of sparkling light studding the night sky. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Castiel’s voice came soft after a while.

“They always made me feel better whenever we were without a roof,” Dean agreed. He tensed a little when he realized what he said. What the fuck was that? Dean didn’t go around sharing shit with perfect strangers. He waited for the barrage of questions.

“I can see how that would be comforting,” was all Castiel responded.

They lapsed into silence again as Dean snuck an incredulous look at him. “That’s it?” He finally couldn’t help asking.

Castiel glanced over, confusion etching his brow. “Is what it?”

Dean leaned forward in his chair. “I tell you Sam and I were homeless and that’s all you have to say?”

Castiel licked his lips and Dean almost accused him of trying to distract him. “It must have been very difficult,” he replied sincerely.

Dean frowned, almost frustrated with his blatant acceptance. “You don’t want to know why?”

Castiel shrugged, “Only if you want to tell me. And if you do, you will.”

Dean couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. “Well…. Okay then.”

Castiel gave a small smile and turned his gaze back to the stars. After a moment Dean leaned back again and followed suit.

**********************************************************

Dean woke up early again the next day despite staying up late on the roof with Cas, randomly talking. He was craving pie now. Big surprise there. He pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and ran a hand through his hair. He slipped his feet into a pair of sandals, mostly just because he was too lazy to put on shoes at the moment. He headed down to the pie shop, trying to convince himself he didn’t clearly remember both Cas and Sam telling him that the pie man baked early every morning before the shop opened.

When Dean walked across the dining room floor and approached the kitchen door, however, he heard voices from inside. One British, both pissed. He paused, wondering if he should just turn around and go back upstairs. The raised voices floated out to him, rooting him to the spot.

"I told you Balthazar, we just talked!"

"Past midnight? You never even stay up that late!"

A frustrated sigh. "Sometimes I do..."

Dean's eyes widened when he realized they were fighting about /him/. He simultaneously felt bad for Cas and not so bad for Balthazar. He rolled his eyes at himself. He so needed help.

"What's wrong with getting to know our neighbors?" Castiel's voice was rough with anger.

"Tenants, not neighbors, Cassie."

Dean wrinkled his nose. Cassie?

"Both," Castiel growled. "And either way, I see nothing wrong with it."

A British snort. Dean almost gave his own in echo.

"Don't be naive, darling. He /wants/ you."

Dean just shrugged to himself. It was true enough.

"Balthazar, please don't start this again...." Castiel's voice came weary now and Dean frowned. Again? Did little Balthazar have a jealous streak?

There was silence, then the sound of water running and dishes clattering. Dean knew he should leave before one of them came out of the kitchen and he got caught, but he couldn't make himself.

"Is this the Daddy issues thing again?" Balthazar's tone was harsh and he heard Cas sigh.

There was no way Dean was leaving now. He stepped a little closer.

"Why is wanting to find my father an issue?" Castiel's voice came, almost too soft for Dean to hear.

Another annoyed, or annoying from Dean's point of view, sound from Balthazar. "Don't you think if he wanted to be found you would have found him by now?"

Dean's brow furrowed at the heavy silence that followed. Finally Cas spoke, his voice a little shaky. "You're right. Just... forget it."

Balthazar's voice became sickeningly sweet. "I don't know why you fill your pretty little head with shit like that, darling.

"Me neither. I'm done. I promise," Castiel's voice was strained. Dean could picture a forced smile behind it. This Brit was even more of a dick than Dean initially thought. He had to unclench his fists and take a deep breath before slamming loudly into the kitchen. "Morning." He greeted cheerfully.

Balthazar scowled and tightened his hold visibly around Cas's waist where he was standing behind him. Castiel blushed a little but smiled. "Good morning, Dean. Are you hungry?"

"If you're offering pie I am," Dean gave him a wink, mostly just to see Balthazar's face darken further. The man didn't disappoint either.

Dean couldn't help but be even more pleased when Cas twisted out of Balthazar's grasp to get him a plate. "I have apple, summer berry, and chocolate cream left over from yesterday."

Dean licked his lips as he slid onto a stool at the work table. "Definitely a chocolate cream kind of morning."

Castiel laughed and cut him a large slice, both of them ignoring another of Balthazar's noisy exhales, as Cas slid the plate in front of him. "Thanks Cas..." Dean took a large bite, chewing obnoxiously.

Balthazar rolled his eyes. "I have to get to work, we're doing set construction today and I need to supervise."

"Supervise? Why don't you just help?" Dean asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Don't wanna break a nail?" He grinned when he caught Cas quickly turning to the sink to hide a smile, while Balthazar gave him a withering look. His grin slowly slid off his face as Balthazar stalked to Cas and spun him for a long hard kiss. His point was pretty clear. Dean could make all the sarcastic comments he wanted, but he didn't have the guy, Balthazar did. Dean was looking down at his pie by the time he heard a snarky, "Goodbye darling. I'll be home for dinner."

"All right, have a good day," Castiel replied a bit breathlessly. Dean hid a wince by taking another large bite.

Castiel moved back across the table from him and started working on his dough again. "How is it?"

"Awesome," Dean mumbled around the mouthful, debating if he should ask Cas about his dad. That would basically be an admission of eavesdropping though, so he just watched him work while he ate his pie. He had a hat pulled over his messy hair today, but Dean liked how it still stuck out the back. He also couldn’t fail to notice the blue shirt under his apron that made his eyes even more dazzling.

[ ](http://desfic00.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/491/459)

Dean could tell that he was upset about Balthazar though. He worked much more seriously than usual. After rolling out the dough and starting to fit it into pie plates, Castiel glanced up at Dean. “He must be in a bad mood today.” He gave Dean a small smile like he was apologizing for the bastard.

“Who?” Dean asked, even though he knew damn well.

“Balthazar… maybe he didn’t sleep last night…”

“He doesn’t bother me,” Dean shrugged and got up to wash his dish in the sink.

“You don’t have to do that,” Castiel protested.

“Already done,” Dean grinned, grabbing a towel to dry it as he turned back to Cas. “Least I could do for awesome pie.”

Castiel actually blushed and gave a small smile. “Thank you Dean.”

Dean leaned back against the counter. “No problem Cas. I hope I wasn’t… interrupting anything when I came in?” He raised an eyebrow.

Castiel sighed and looked back to his work. “Of course not. Balthazar’s not much of a morning person is all.”

Dean frowned slightly at all the excuses Cas was making for the dick. He hesitated a moment, crossing his arms over his chest. “I know we don’t know each other that well yet Cas, but if you ever wanna talk about something….” He let the sentiment trail off, watching the pie man carefully.

Castiel glanced up, surprise clear in his blue eyes. “That’s very kind of you Dean. I’ll… keep that in mind.” The smile this time was small but genuine.

Dean smiled back with a small nod, pleased. “Good. I’ve got another round of job hunting today, so I better get going. Thanks for breakfast.”

“The garage,” Castiel remembered, head tilting slightly. It was just last night, but for some reason Dean felt… something… that Cas had remembered. He nodded slightly. “Fingers crossed.”

“I’m sure you are quite talented, Dean. I’ve seen your car. You need no superstitious customs.”

Dean was half embarrassed and half amused. “Well… thanks. I guess I’ll see you around Cas.”

“It would seem inevitable,” Castiel agreed. Dean shook his head as he ducked out of the kitchen and headed back upstairs. He found Sam eating an orange at the island when he walked in. “Where were you?”

Dean shrugged. “Had some pie for breakfast.” He ignored Sam’s knowing look. He was relieved when his brother spoke again with a change of subject. “I’m meeting with my advisor today to go over my schedule.”

“Yeah? Don’t get carried away. You do have four years ya know.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Sure Dean. Although, maybe I could finish in 3, start law school a little early?” Like Dean hadn’t seen that one coming. He leaned on the island and looked at Sam seriously. “College is about more than classes dude. Don’t kill yourself so you don’t have time to enjoy the rest.”

“Fine. I’ll take it easy the first semester,” Sam promised. Dean figured that was the best he was going to get for now so he nodded approval. “I’m hitting the pavement again.” He headed for the bathroom to get showered.

“Oh wait!” Sam pulled a brightly colored flyer from his pocket. “This was on the bulletin board in the student center.” Dean stepped to take it, brow furrowed as he read it over. “I dunno man… do I wanna work for a place that advertises at a college for a mechanic?”

Sam shrugged. “It’s worth checking out at least. And lots of places use the college. Most kids work through school,” he added pointedly, earning a glare from Dean. “Fine. I’ll check it out.”

Sam grinned. “Good luck.”

“Apparently I don’t need it,” Dean smiled to himself.

**********************************************************

By the time he was out of the shower Sam was gone. He dressed quickly and shoved the flyer in his pocket, twirling his keys as he headed down to the Impala. He found the place pretty easy. It was only a couple miles from the apartment. The place didn’t look much different from Bobby’s actually, which made Dean like it instantly. Not that he could afford to be that picky right now. He climbed out of the Impala and stepped inside, glancing around.

A middle aged woman glanced up from the front counter. “You can just sit your ass down or leave,” she informed Dean gruffly. “We’re swamped and you’re just gonna have to wait.” Dean just grinned. “Yes ma’am.” It was like the fucking female Bobby, a little surreal but definitely homey. He plopped in one of the chairs for waiting customers and surveyed the surroundings while he waited. It was nothing fancy, there were a few pictures haphazardly hung that looked like family photos. He recognized the woman in many of them.

Dean watched as the woman disappeared into the garage and immediately ducked under the hood of a Charger. She emerged about 15 minutes later, wiping grease off her cheek as she hollered something at one of the other mechanics before coming back into the waiting room and stopping in front of him. “All right, you’re up. What’s the problem?” She put her hands on her hips and looked at him expectantly. Dean rose from his chair. “Oh no problem. I saw you were looking for a mechanic?”

The woman raised an eyebrow and looked him up and down. “And you think you’re it, pretty boy?”

After a lifetime of Bobby, Dean was unfazed. “Damn straight.” He jerked his thumb to the Impala out front. “Built her from the ground up.” The woman glanced out the window and despite no change in her expression he could tell she was impressed. “I’m Ellen. You screw up once and you’re out on your ass, got it?”

Dean grinned. “Yes ma’am.”

“And don’t call me ma’am! Be here at 7 tomorrow. I’ll have my daughter go over all the damn paperwork with you and then you can get to work.”

Dean nodded. “Thanks, Ellen. Really. You won’t be disappointed.”

She scoffed but Dean saw a slight smile as he ducked out the door. Things might just work out here.  



	6. Chapter 6

Dean groaned when his alarm went off at six the next morning. He was glad he'd spent the rest of the day unpacking the rest of their shit yesterday though. It was a lot easier to get ready in the morning when you could actually find stuff. He stretched out a little before rolling out of the bed. He took his time in the shower, mostly for the most awesome water pressure he'd ever experienced. He started coffee brewing, then went to dress, figuring jeans and t-shirt would do since Ellen had said he'd be jumping right in to work. He had planned to stop by to say hi to Cas, but he'd lingered too long in the shower, which frankly, was probably a good thing. He grabbed some poptarts and his coffee and headed out the door, a little thrill at starting what seemed to be one of two pretty decent jobs. 

Sam, of course, had been deliriously happy when Dean told him, like Dean had announced his presidential candidacy or something. Dean figured the school buzz was still going strong. The idiot had promised to text him all day, like that would make a good first impression on a new job. Dean parked around back as he shoved the last of his poptart in his mouth and took his coffee with him as he walked around and pushed through the main door. He raised his eyebrows at the blonde who had her back to him behind the counter when he entered. Nice ass. His eyebrows shot even higher though when the chick turned, absently looking through a stack of papers. "Jo?"

Jo glanced up and grinned. "Dean... What are you doing here?" Dean laughed. "I was gonna ask you the same thing..." 

Jo raised an eyebrow. "Wait a minute... you're not mom's hot new grease monkey, are you?"

Dean shrugged. "Guess your family really wants me employed. And good to know that excellent taste runs in the family." Jo rolled her eyes. "Mom's gonna flip. She swore she hired a hotter mechanic than I did bartender. We got $50 riding on it."

Dean chuckled. "Guess I know what my marketable assets are." Jo waved him off easily. "Don't worry. You can't cut the job and you'll be out on your tight little ass."

"Well that's a comfort at least," Dean rolled his own eyes.

Jo just grinned at him. “Well let’s get all this paperwork shit out of the way, shall we?"

**************************************************************************

 

A couple of hours later, Dean was blissfully away from paperwork and sprawled underneath a Toyota. Jo had cranked some music in the garage and Dean tapped his foot along to Black Sabbath as he worked. He still couldn’t figure out how this had all worked out so perfectly. He’d spent his whole life scrabbling and clawing for every little thing; this seemed too good to be remotely true. He was waiting either to wake up suddenly only to discover it was all a dream or for it to just come crashing down around him. He was damn well going to enjoy it however long it lasted though. 

Ellen arrived by noon and hovered over Dean, inspecting his work, giving a small grunt occasionally. Dean just smiled to himself and hummed along to the music. He knew he did good work and he could tell she was impressed, even if begrudgingly so. Finally she slapped him on the shoulder and offered him a bottle of pop, which he figured for her was equivalent to gushing praise.

Jo had been watching carefully from the front desk and waited until then to stroll over, confirming Dean’s suspicions that the beverage was some sort of approval. “Hey Mom,” she greeted way too casually as she leaned back against the hood of the Ford Dean had just finished. “Wanna meet the guy I found to cover my night classes?” Dean managed to refrain from rolling his eyes as he took a swig of his pop. 

Ellen gave Jo a suspicious look. “You invited him here? Why wouldn’t I see him at the bar?”

Jo shrugged. “Well I mean I guess you could wait if you want, but then how would we settle our bet?” She raised an eyebrow at her mother.

Ellen’s jaw set in determination, amusing, considering the content of their wager. “Bring it on Joanna Beth.” 

“Well fine but I’m keeping my clothes on,” Dean chimed in, earning a satisfyingly surprised glanced from Ellen and a peal of laughter from Jo. “Meet Dean, Mom, your new bartender.” She slung an arm around Dean’s shoulders and Dean flashed Ellen a grin. “Your family apparently likes me,” he informed her. 

Ellen blinked at them looking mildly annoyed for a moment, making Dean worry, but then she burst out laughing and he relaxed again. “Well fuck me sideways,” she shook her head. “Eww, Mom…” Jo wrinkled her nose as Dean barked a laugh. 

Ellen shook her head. “Well Dean, if you can pour a drink like you can work a wrench then we might just keep ya around.”

“Plus you’re really pretty,” Jo added helpfully. “You’ll be bringing in customers left and right for both.”

“Yeah yeah, you’ve extolled my virtues enough,” Dean deadpanned. “Can I get back to work now?”

“Oh yeah, I like him,” Ellen nodded. “One more car then take lunch,” She clapped Dean on the shoulder again as Jo removed her arm. “I know a great diner if you want,” Jo offered. “I mean if you don’t mind eating with the boss.” Ellen snorted as she moved to the other side of the garage to work on another car. “I’m his boss at the bar!” She called to her mom, giving Dean a wink before heading back to the front desk.

**************************************************************************

Dean informed Jo at lunch that she was like the brother he never had, which earned him a kick under the table, forcing him to amend to sister. Still, as much as he loved Sammy and his geek-dom, Jo was eerily similar to Dean, almost making him wonder if he /had/ a long lost sister. Jo started lunch by calling him a pussy for not ordering the double bacon cheeseburger. They had a ten minute discussion about the merit of the ass of some girl that walked by, followed by a lively debate about Zeppelin’s best song. Sam may have been thrilled to be starting school, but Dean was falling into pretty damn near perfection himself as far as he was concerned. He tried not to think that he was simply a baker short of achieving that. It sounded too much like the setup to an inappropriate bathtub joke or something. Plus it was a little pathetic. 

Dean was pleasantly tired by the time he got home that night to start dinner for he and Sam. Ellen and Jo had worked out between themselves that he could come in a couple hours later the days that he would work at the bar, despite his protests that he could handle it. They both assured him he would thank them later and clearly conveyed the topic was closed. While they were probably right, he hated to give up the money. Still, if he could manage some good tips at the Roadhouse he’d probably be making quite a bit more than he did in Lawrence. 

He grabbed his phone and dialed Bobby, putting it on speaker and setting it on the island as he started grabbing stuff for dinner. Bobby’s voice was less gruff than normal when he answered. “Bout time you called me boy.”

Dean snorted. “Sorry Bobby, I’ve been a little busy… moving, job hunting, working at my new job…”

“You started the bar already?” Bobby piped up. 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Naw man, I’m working at the alternate universe version of your garage. Basically if we were both chicks. Although Jo works more at the bar,” he added, mostly to himself.

It was Bobby’s turn to snort that time. “This ain’t no Twilight Zone, Winchester, what the hell are you talking about?” 

Dean started the water going for the pasta and snagged a knife to start chopping vegetables. “Well… turns out that Jo, the cute blonde, hired me as a bartender and her mom, Ellen, hired me as a mechanic. Good pay for both too and they’re willing to share me,” he gave a little smirk at Bobby’s grunt. “Ellen’s the female you. So if you ever wanna know what you’d look like with boobs just let me know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Bobby deadpanned. 

“You do that,” Dean chuckled. “Anyway, I did my first day at the garage today and I start the bar on Friday so at least we’re gonna be able to eat while Sam’s in school.” 

“You know that wouldn’t be an issue,” Bobby practically growled protectively. 

Dean shook his head to himself. “I know Bobby. So when you gonna make it out for a visit anyway? Sam’s got parents weekend next month. We could go together and pretend to be a March-December gay couple.” He grinned to himself as he popped a cherry tomato into his mouth. He could practically hear Bobby rolling his eyes through the phone. “Oh come on. You miss me.”

“Do not,” Bobby grunted softly. Dean just smiled. “Miss you too Bobby. I’ll send you an email about the parents’ weekend. Sam would want you there if you can make it.”

“I guess I can have Ash run the garage for a few days,” Bobby mused to himself. Dean raised his eyebrows as he dumped the chopped vegetables into a pan to sear. “Really? Already?”

“Well by then I think,” Bobby amended. “He’s no Winchester, but he’s working out.”

“Good,” Dean really was glad but he could hear a tinge of jealousy in his tone. He knew Bobby heard it too, but he was kind enough to ignore it. “Send me the info. I ain’t going to no bonding events or toga parties though.”

Dean laughed. “Sam’ll be so disappointed,” he told Bobby just as Sam walked in. “Disappointed about what?”

“Bobby doesn’t want to go to any toga parties with you Sammy,” Dean informed him solemnly. 

“I’m crushed Bobby,” Sam called as he walked over to hop up on the island next to the phone. “Mmm smells good Dean,” he added, inhaling deeply. 

“Wait’ll I add Bobby’s secret ingredient,” Dean pulled a package of bacon out of the fridge to wave it at Sam. “Damn straight,” Bobby declared. “Glad to hear you boys haven’t killed yourselves or each other yet. I gotta get these old bones to the sack though. Garage opens early tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah,” Dean kept forgetting about the time difference. “Sure Bobby. I’ll email.” They all said their goodbyes and Sam hopped off the counter as Dean started frying up the bacon. “Need help?”

“Nah,” Dean waved him off. “It’s almost ready.” When they sat down to eat, he regaled Sam with the tale of fem Bobby and Dean, receiving a much more satisfying response to his wit when Sam almost choked on his pasta. “You’ll meet ‘em I’m sure,” Dean grinned. “Jo’s taking some night classes actually. Maybe you’ll see her at school.”

**************************************************************************

After dinner Dean took his notebook back up to the roof, telling himself it was because it was a nice peaceful place to write, not that it was the best place to hope to run into Cas. God he was pathetic. That didn’t stop him from settling into one of the lounge chairs though. It only took a few minutes to lose himself in the words again, his pen scratching madly over the pages. It wasn’t until he ran out of pages that he glanced at his watch. Fuck. Almost midnight. There was no way Cas was coming this late. He sighed as he looked over at the door that led down to Cas’s apartment. It’s not like the guy /had/ to come up to the roof every night; Dean had just been hoping. He closed his notebook and headed back down to his own apartment. He was crashing into his bed ten minutes later.

**************************************************************************

The rest of the week went quickly. Dean fell into a comfortable routine at the garage. He got along well with Ellen, and Jo supplied coffee and donuts every morning before disappearing. Before he knew it, it was Friday and time for his first shift at the bar. He went home to shower after the garage. It was a helluva lot easier to get tips when you didn’t smell like a sweaty grease trap. He showed up dressed in jeans and a Metallica t-shirt and Jo whistled at him when he walked in. He rolled his eyes and hopped over the bar. “Don’t you have class?” He prompted. Jo flashed him a grin and hopped up on the bar. “Not till next week stud. ‘Sides, someone has to keep on eye on you. Orientation first. Price list is up on the blackboard,” she pointed over Dean’s head. “It’s pretty straightforward. Regular cab company we call if people are too wasted is there by the phone. Try not to break too many glasses.”

Dean laughed. “Gee thanks. Wonderful training.”

“I know,” Jo swung her legs around to hop off the other side. “Hand me a rag. I’ll wipe the tables down. It’s gonna start getting busy soon,” she glanced at her watch. “Just remember to look pretty and we’ll rake in the tips tonight.” 

Dean snorted. “I’ll do my best,” he tossed a rag at her and went to crank the music up a little before going back to familiarize himself with the layout. Nothing worse than fumbling for where things were when it was busy. 

At first it was just a trickle but pretty soon he and Jo were both busting their asses to keep drinks poured and money coming in. Somehow even in the small space behind the bar, though, they worked near seamlessly together, like they’d choreographed out a perfect routine for years. By the end of the night they were both exhausted, but just eyeballing the tips convinced Dean it was worth it. Jo hopped up on the bar after wiping it down and held a cold beer to Dean. He took it gratefully and perched next to her, letting his legs swing as he took a drink. They sipped at their drinks in comfortable silence for a while. 

“Tomorrow will be worse, or better depending on your perspective,” Jo predicted. 

“Cause it’s Saturday?” Dean asked through a yawn.

“No, cause word’ll get out about the hot new bartender,” Jo grinned, elbowing him in the ribs. 

Dean laughed and rubbed at his side absently. “We’ll see.”

Jo kicked him lightly. “Get outta here. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’m gonna lock up with you,” Dean huffed, “Walk you to your car. I am a gentleman you know…” He kicked Jo back when she gave a derisive snort. “Well then let’s get the hell outta here already,” she agreed.

**************************************************************************

Ten minutes later he waving goodbye to Jo as she drove away. 

It was pretty late, or early depending on your point of view, by that time and Dean was fucking starving. A big ass breakfast before bed sounded pretty damn good. He found his way to Connor's Diner, nearly sighing in relief when he saw that it was open. He climbed out of the Impala and moved into the brightly lit diner, stifling a yawn. He stopped short on his way to a booth in the back corner when he caught sight of messy black hair. "Cas?"

Dean's surprised smile faded when Cas lifted his head to reveal blood shot, red rimmed eyes and a tear streaked face. "Oh my God, what's wrong?" Dean immediately slid across from him, not even thinking to ask permission.

Castiel blinked at him slowly like he was half asleep or drunk. "Dean? What are you doing here?" The slurred words definitely indicated the latter. 

Dean leaned over the table worriedly. "Cas... did something happen? Are you okay?"

Castiel’s eyes started to well up again, his lower lip quivering slightly. Dean inhaled sharply, close to all out panic. “Shit I’m sorry, Cas… I didn’t mean to… I’ll go, okay?”

Castiel’s hand shot out suddenly and strong fingers closed around Dean’s wrist. “Please don’t,” he whispered as a tear slid down his cheek. Dean nodded immediately, covering Cas’s hand with his own. “Okay. Okay Cas… I won’t.”

Castiel’s posture relaxed slightly, but a few more tears rolled from his eyes as Dean watched helplessly. He stroked over the baker’s hand lightly with his thumb, letting the silence stretch around them as Cas’s eyes eventually dried again.

Finally, Castiel pulled his hand back slowly, and Dean let him because he didn’t know what else to do. “I’m sorry Dean…” Castiel’s voice was still raw, though slightly less slurred. 

“Don’t be,” Dean insisted softly. “What can I do? Have you eaten? Are you hungry?”

Castiel dropped his eyes to the table and just when Dean thought he wasn’t going to answer, “Yes.” 

“Then let’s get some food in you, okay? You’ll feel better.” Dean had no idea if that was actually true or not since he had no clue what was wrong. Still, he took the faint nod as another yes and flagged the waitress down for a couple of menus. 

Castiel mumbled out an order and Dean followed suit. He waited a couple of beats after the waitress left, concerned gaze still leveled on Cas. “Do you want to talk about it?” He couldn’t help but notice the surprise in Cas’s eyes at the sincere offer. 

“I’ve burdened you enough, Dean.” The blue eyes widened even further in surprise at Dean’s derisive snort. 

“You haven’t burdened shit, Cas. Look, I’m not gonna make you talk, but you’re obviously upset about something, so if you wanna talk, I’m here, okay?” Dean never claimed to be good at the whole speaking words thing. For some reason he could only make things come out right when he was writing. He waited though, as Cas seemed to consider it. 

“I had a fight with Balthazar,” Castiel’s words were soft when he finally spoke. If the guy didn’t look so fucking miserable Dean would have been thrilled at that news. Instead he just frowned sympathetically. “About what?”

“It’s stupid,” Castiel mumbled, but something flashed in his eyes that made Dean press further. “If it’s too personal….” He let the prompt hang there between them as the waitress brought their food and drinks. 

Castiel poked at his food with his fork for a moment before glancing up to Dean again. “I… well I mentioned to you before… about my mother dying?”

Dean nodded encouragingly for him to continue. “She made pie too.”

Castiel looked almost relieved and gave a hesitant smile. “Yes. She did. After her death I ended up in an orphanage, which is where I spent the rest of my childhood actually. I was never adopted.”

“Fuck,” Dean chimed in helpfully, but his tone was soft. He didn’t ask what that had to do with a fight with Balthazar. He’d let Cas get there in his own time. 

Castiel nodded slightly and took a small bite. “Fuck, indeed.” The word sounded so odd coming from Cas’s mouth, particularly with the rest of his sentence. If the subject hadn’t been so serious, Dean might have laughed. Instead he took a slow bite of his own food. “You didn’t have any other family?”

Castiel sighed. “None that wanted to be burdened with a small child. We were never a close family on my mother’s side.”

Dean hesitated, feeling like he had insider knowledge that he shouldn’t, based on what he overheard Cas and Balthazar fighting about the other day. “What about your Dad?”

Castiel poked at his food silently for a few long moments while Dean tried to come up with a decent apology for prying. Before his brain could work anything out though, Cas was talking again voice still slurring just slightly. “I never knew my father. My mother never mentioned him and at my young age I never really thought to ask. Not until it was too late. For most of my childhood I just assumed that he died like she did. It never occurred to me to wonder where or who he was.” Castiel paused to sigh softly and take a bite of his food. “To make a long story short, I’ve been looking for him for the past year or so. I haven’t been very successful thus far.”

Dean watched him intently. He was pretty sure only Cas could still talk like that when he was drunk. “I’m sorry.”

Castiel’s eyes flashed in surprise again. “Why?”

Dean frowned. “Because you’re obviously upset about it. And it’s not crazy to want to find your dad, Cas…” He trailed off, not sure what else to say or why the baker was so surprised at his reaction. It would probably be a pretty safe bet that it had something to do with Balthazar though. The dick.

“Hey,” Dean started again brightly, practically aching to cheer him up. “What if me and Sam helped?”

Castiel blinked at him. “Helped what?”

Dean laughed. “Find your dad, man….” He reached impulsively for Cas’s hand, covering it with his own on the table when the man just continued to stare at him like he was speaking freaking Russian or something. “C’mon, Cas. It’ll be… fun.”

“Fun…” Castiel echoed like it was a foreign word on his tongue. “I can’t say it’s been much… fun… so far.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Well that’s ‘cause your boyfriend is being a dick about it, for whatever fucking reason.”

Castiel gave him a surprised look, but Dean swore he saw a flash of amusement in those blue eyes. He reluctantly pulled his hand back to actually pick up his fork. “Look it’s up to you. Obviously. But we can help if you want.”

Dean watched Castiel eat a few more bites, clearly thinking. “How did you know Balthazar was being a… dick… about it?”

Oops. Shit. Dean cleared his throat. “Well you said you had a fight with him,” he pointed out. Apparently that was good enough since Castiel nodded slightly. Dean changed the subject quickly just in case. “What do you know about your dad?” He really was curious, so it didn’t seem like too bad of a diversion.

Castiel relaxed slightly and took a bite of his own food. “Not much really. From what I understand he might not even know I exist. His name wasn’t included on the birth certificate.”

Dean chewed thoughtfully, glad Cas seemed to be feeling a little better at least. “Any idea how old he is? Where he might live? Anything?” 

Castiel sighed and stole a slice of Dean’s bacon, which Dean couldn’t help but find kind of endearing. He hid a smile. 

“I know he was in Illinois at some point. My mother and I lived near Chicago.” Castiel gave a small smile. “He has to be at least in his fifties I would imagine since I’m 31 and my mother had me when she was 22.”

Dean practically beamed back, thrilled at even a tentative smile, not to mention the information Cas was giving about himself without Dean even having to dig. “Makes sense. Anything else?” 

Castiel shrugged. “My mother had a University of South Dakota shirt that she used to wear to bed quite often. She always used to say that it belonged to someone special. It’s possible it was his. It’s one of the only things I was able to keep.” His smile grew sad again. “It used to smell like her.”

Dean gave a sympathetic sigh. He remembered the day he realized his own mother’s scent was no longer clinging to anything she had left behind. It seemed like such a small thing, but it had hit him hard. “I’m sorry Cas. What do you remember about her? I mean if you want….”

Castiel chewed slowly for a couple beats before looking up at Dean. “Well… the pie.” 

Dean smiled. “Well if you got your talent from her she was a damn good pie maker.” His smile widened a little when Cas smiled back. “Yeah, they were. From what I remember.”

“What else?” Dean prompted, genuinely interested.

“She used to hum whenever she baked. Completely out of tune,” Castiel chuckled softly. “Still…. It was nice.”

“Sounds like it,” Dean agreed. “My mom used to sing to me. Usually when I couldn’t sleep or something.” At Castiel’s questioning head tilt he added, “She died when I was four.”

Castiel immediately looked horrified. “Dean, I’m so sorry.”

Dean was a little amazed that Castiel seemed so sincere when he went through much the same thing. “It’s okay Cas. I mean, I miss her, sure, but it was a long time ago. I’m lucky I got the time I did with her,” Dean admitted. “Sam never even knew her. She died giving birth. He barely made it himself.”

Castiel shook his head. “That’s horrible. I suppose I’m lucky for the time I spent with my mother as well.” He paused. “Do you really think I’ll be able to find my father?”

Dean bit his lip. “We’re sure as hell gonna try Cas.”

That seemed like a good enough answer for the guy. He started eating with a little more vigor. Dean almost felt proud that he’d been able to cheer him up. “How are the new jobs going?”

Dean took a big bite of his waffles. “Pretty good actually. Tips are great at the bar and Ellen and Jo are both great.”

“Your bosses?” Castiel surmised.

Dean nodded. “Mother and daughter ironically. But they’re definitely cool. I can’t believe how much I lucked out with this whole move actually. The jobs. The apartment…”

“You and Sam have been wonderful tenants. I’m glad you like the apartment,” Castiel told him sincerely. 

Dean waved him off. “We haven’t been here long enough to say if we’re decent tenants,” he protested. “Maybe we’re gonna start throwing wild parties and trash the place.”

Castiel laughed. “I’ll be on the look out for kegs.”

Dean huffed a surprised laugh at that. It just sounded weird coming out of Cas’s mouth. Castiel gave a pleased look that he had made Dean laugh, which just made Dean grin wider. “Up for dessert?” He asked as they polished off their plates. “Are you allowed to eat pie at other places?”

“Well it’s frowned upon,” Castiel deadpanned, “We could just go back to the shop and get some /free/ pie.”

“Free and delicious,” Dean grinned. “I can drive you home, cause I really hope you didn’t drive here in your condition.”

Castiel blushed slightly but nodded. “I took a cab from the bar.”

“And how come you weren’t at /my/ bar?” Dean accused, smiling so Cas would know he was teasing.”

“You wouldn’t have wanted to see me pouting in my tequila all night,” Castiel assured him, looking down at his plate. “I’m glad I ran into you here though,” he added softly.

“Me too Cas,” Dean touched the back of his hand again just briefly. The waitress dropped the check off as she cleared the plates and Dean quickly pulled his wallet out. “It’s on me,” he assured over Cas’s protest, throwing some money on the table. “Come on. Let’s get you some pie and then to bed,” Dean slid out of the booth, ready to steady Cas if he wobbled.

Castiel followed suit, only swaying slightly as he stood. “You’re a pretty low key drunk,” Dean complimented as they headed outside. 

“I’ve been told I hold my liquor well,” Castiel agreed. “I’m sure I’m a little worse for the wear after half a bottle of tequila though.”

Dean looked at him incredulously and maybe a little bit impressed too. “Half a bottle? Dude… most people would be just passed out by now.”

Castiel shrugged and slid into the passenger side when Dean opened the door for him. “I am a little tired.”

Dean laughed. “That’s because it’s about 4am,” he informed him before walking around to his own side. 

It was mostly silent on the way back, but it was one of those comfortable ones that were so rare. It made Dean think of that line from Pulp Fiction. “Do you have to open the shop so early?” He asked as he parked in his spot in the garage.

Castiel shook his head. “No, I’ll put up a sign that says we won’t open until the afternoon.”

Dean nodded his approval as they climbed out of the car. “Good, you need to get some sleep.”

Castiel led the way up to the shop, letting them in with minimal fumbling of his key, and then back to the kitchen. “What are you in the mood for?”  
Dean had to censor himself before answering. They weren’t on a fucking date, as much as he wanted it to be. “Whaddya got?”

Castiel peered in the large refrigerator. “Chocolate cream, blueberry, apple crumble…” 

“Chocolate cream,” Dean replied decisively. He settled on a stool as Castiel pulled the pie out to cut a couple slices, bringing the plates to the work surface and sitting next to Dean. “Thanks Cas.”

“Of course. It’s the least I could do after… tonight.”

It was Dean’s turn to flush lightly. He rubbed at the back of his neck. “No big, man.” He took a bite of pie as a distraction. “Jesus Christ this is good.”

Castiel laughed quietly. “I’ll consider that the highest compliment. It’s a good thing I have tenants who like pie.”

“Who /doesn’t/ like pie?” Dean demanded around another mouthful.

“Balthazar.”

Of fucking course. Dean shook his head. “He’s cracked.” He meant it in more ways than one, but he wasn’t about to go on a tirade about the guy’s boyfriend while eating his free, amazing, pie. 

Castiel didn’t comment but Dean swore the baker looked slightly amused as he took a bite. 

When they finished, Castiel put the sign in the front door and they walked upstairs together, Castiel thanking Dean again for the meal and driving him home. It seemed like he wanted to say more, but he mumbled a good night and slipped into his apartment.

Dean sighed softly before letting himself into his own. He was snoring in less than an hour.


	7. Chapter 7

Castiel slipped quietly into his apartment, hoping to not wake Balthazar. He just wanted to get some sleep, not rehash the whole argument that forced him from the apartment in the first place. He definitely didn’t want to explain where or who he’d been with. 

It was dark when Castiel stepped carefully into the bedroom and he breathed a small sigh of relief. He walked through to the master bathroom and closed the door softly to change into his pajamas and brush his teeth. He thought he was quiet, but by the time he stepped back out into the bedroom, Balthazar was sitting up in bed. Castiel nearly darted right back into the bathroom.

“Where have you been?” Balthazar asked flatly.

Castiel sighed and walked around to his side of the bed. “Out.”

Balthazar glared at him. “That’s not an answer. Jesus Cassie. I’ve been calling and it’s nearly five am! I know you’re pissed or whatever but…”

Castiel sighed again, softer this time. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just needed some time.”

“You’re drunk,” Balthazar observed.

Castiel just nodded slightly as he slid down in the bed. He was also exhausted and really didn’t want to do this right now. 

“Fine,” Balthazar snapped, making Castiel wince. “You can go sleep in the guest room,” he added after a moment. 

Castiel looked at him incredulously. “Are you serious? You’re kicking me out of bed?”

Balthazar’s lip curled slightly. “I have a big day tomorrow. I’d like to get some rest.”

Castiel blinked at him a few times before sliding out of the bed, grabbing his pillow to take with. He left the room without another word, attributing the churning in his stomach to the alcohol and not guilt.

***************************************************************

Castiel slept fitfully in the unfamiliar bed and woke up groggy with his head pounding. He managed to pull himself out of bed to dig some Tylenol out of the medicine cabinet, grateful that Balthazar was already gone. He glanced at his watch to discover it was nearly one in the afternoon. He had to get the shop open. He took his time in the shower, trying to wash away all the bad from last night. Then again, it wasn’t all bad. 

Dean had managed to lift his spirits near effortlessly. It was so easy just to be around the other man. Castiel hadn’t told anyone but Balthazar about the search for his father until last night. Needless to say Balthazar had been less than supportive about it for whatever reason. Dean appeared accepting without question though. Castiel wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, but he knew it felt… nice. 

Castiel dressed in his usual jeans and a t-shirt. He kept his apron down in the kitchen. He found himself pausing in the hallway at the Winchester’s door on his way out. Impulsively he knocked, catching his lower lip between his teeth as he waited.

A few beats later a clearly half-asleep Dean opened the door, emerald eyes widening slightly when they saw Castiel. “Oh, hey Cas….” His voice was rough with sleep and it sent a small shiver down the base of Castiel’s spine. As Castiel took in Dean’s sleepy gaze and mussed hair, he suddenly realized that he was attracted to the man, immediately followed by a sharp spear of guilt. 

When Dean cocked an expectant eyebrow at him where he leaned on the door, Castiel realized he hadn’t spoken yet. “Oh. Hello Dean. I’m sorry I woke you.”

Dean shrugged a shoulder. “I should be getting up anyway. You feeling… better?” His voice was almost hesitant as he studied Castiel.

Castiel wasn’t sure how to answer without lying, so he just changed the subject. “I wanted to thank you for last night. Would you like to come down to the shop for breakfast? I make a couple different breakfast pies. Usually earlier of course,” He added, giving a small sheepish smile.

The pang of guilt subsided a little at Dean’s bright smile at the suggestion. “That sounds great actually. Mind I, like, shower and stuff first?”

Castiel blushed lightly. “Of course not. Just come down to the kitchen whenever you’re ready.” 

Castiel chastised himself the whole way down. He shouldn’t be inviting another man, an extremely attractive and kind man, for breakfast. He had a boyfriend. True he was angry with Balthazar at the moment, but that wasn’t an excuse. He couldn’t help but find Dean… compelling though. Even before he realized he was actually attracted to the young man, he knew he was still drawn to him in some way. He’d initially thought he would make a good friend, but now even that seemed almost dangerous. Plus, Castiel reasoned to himself as he started working, it wasn’t fair to Balthazar. Castiel had never been disloyal. It just wasn’t in his nature. He wasn’t going to let a stupid fight make him start now.

By the time Dean poked his head in the kitchen, Castiel had two breakfast pies in the oven and was starting a selection of pies for the day. “Come on back, Dean. It’s fine,” Castiel assured him when he caught him peeking in. He watched the younger man smile and relax as he stepped in. 

“Already smells good,” Dean proclaimed as he sat on a stool. “Is that bacon?”

Castiel nodded. “Bacon, eggs, onions, mushrooms, cheese…. Technically it’s closer to a quiche, but I just call it breakfast pie and people buy it.” He gave a small shrug as he carefully worked the dough he’d made yesterday into tins to be filled. 

Castiel tried not to notice how Dean’s eyes crinkled at the sides slightly when he grinned brightly like he was now. “That sounds fucking awesome.”

The corner of Castiel’s mouth tugged up. The man certainly had a way with words. “Hopefully it tastes… awesome.” He couldn’t bring himself to use Dean’s exact phrasing. Even that word sounded odd coming from his mouth. He could feel the back of his neck heat slightly. When he risked a glance up, Dean was grinning at him, although he couldn’t figure out why. It just made the flush creep higher though. He quickly turned back to his work.

Castiel could feel Dean’s eyes on him, but he tried to stay focused on the dough beneath his fingers. “So we gonna start this dad search?” Dean asked. Castiel swore he actually sounded interested.

“I’m… not sure…” Castiel admitted, feeling like he was letting Dean down somehow. He could hear the frown in Dean’s voice, when the man spoke again. “Why not?”

The real reason was because he didn’t want to keep fighting with Balthazar about it, but Castiel felt silly acknowledging that for some reason. “I’m not sure I’m ready,” he found himself replying instead. Technically it wasn’t a lie but he still felt horrible saying it when Dean was only trying to help. 

Castiel risked a glance up to the other man when his words were met only with silence. Dean’s brow was furrowed and he was chewing on his lower lip like he was attempting to keep quiet on purpose. “Dean?”

Dean’s eyes flicked up to him. “Yeah?”

“Is something wrong?”

Dean’s lip was captured by his teeth again as he appeared to have some sort of brief internal struggle. “If you’re not ready to meet him that’s cool, but we could still look. I mean what if when you /are/ ready we still have months of searching to do?”

Castiel’s lips parted slightly, but he couldn’t really come up with an argument to that. Thankfully the timer went off for the breakfast pie then and he went to get it out of the oven, giving himself a moment to think. Still, it didn’t help. Balthazar was the only reason to wait and he still didn’t want to admit that to Dean. He sighed as he cut them each a slice. “I guess you’re right.”

When Castiel turned to bring Dean his plate his whole face was lit up with a smile this time and Castiel couldn’t help but smile back.

After that they sipped at their coffee and Dean made borderline obscene noises at the pie while they ate. They talked about nothing important; old pets, favorite bands, and previous Halloween costumes. It was the most enjoyable conversation Castiel had partaken in, in quite some time. 

On his way out, Dean invited Castiel to the bar later, promising a free drink. Castiel gave him a small smile. “I’ll think about it.”

**************************************************************************

Castiel opened the shop shortly after Dean left and was busy the rest of the day since he opened so late. He was glad for the distraction and the work, although he wasn’t completely sure what he was distracting himself from anymore.

Balthazar didn’t stop in like he normally did, but he was on the couch in the living room when Castiel stepped into the apartment. “Hello,” Castiel greeted quietly. He went to the kitchen to get himself some water and take a deep breath before returning and sitting next to Balthazar. 

The awkward silence stretched for a few long minutes. “I don’t want to fight anymore,” Castiel announced finally. He twisted to face Balthazar, sliding a hand over his thigh. “Come on. This is silly. Let me make you dinner and we can watch a movie or something and just… put this behind us.”

Balthazar scowled, but Castiel saw the faint glint in his eye that meant he was going to give in. “Don’t give me those puppy dog eyes, Cassie. You were gone all fucking night.”

Castiel sighed. “I know. I’m sorry… I just needed some time. I went to a bar and got drunk. I ate at a diner and then I came home.” He wanted to ask Balthazar why it bothered him so much that he was looking for his father, but he didn’t want to restart the whole argument. 

“You could have called or something,” Balthazar accused, but his voice was already softer.

Castiel scooted closer and carefully twined their fingers together. “I know,” he echoed. “I’m sorry. It was no big deal though. I’m fine.” He felt a pang of guilt for not mentioning Dean. That certainly wasn’t going to help the situation though. Balthazar had seemed to have an instant dislike for the younger man.

Balthazar huffed but leaned to kiss him and Castiel knew the fight was over. He breathed a sigh of relief and planted himself in Balthazar’s lap. 

Make up sex always had a slow urgency between them. Fingers fumbled and clothes didn’t even make it all the way off. Balthazar prepped Castiel messily and not enough before he was sliding in, making Castiel drop his head back with a groan. He rode Balthazar slowly, sinuously, breath hot between their lazy lips. It was unhurried and perfect and Castiel gripped Balthazar’s shirt tightly as he came. Balthazar grunted in his neck softly when he followed. 

They cleaned up and Castiel made fried chicken for dinner and they ate on the couch watching one of Balthazar’s favorite movies. Castiel focused intently on the screen, forcing himself not to think about Dean’s invitation to come to the bar. He ended up going to bed early, leaving Balthazar to watch the next movie by himself.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean watched Sam pacing the edge of the roof, worried he was going to just bounce right over the edge and onto the pie crust below. Okay, so that was kind of a funny image once he pictured it. 

“What are you laughing at?” Sam demanded, pausing to narrow his eyes at his brother.

“Nothing,” Dean smirked. “Would you just chill? He’ll be here.”

Sam had settled into school in the past few weeks, much too enthusiastically if you asked Dean, and Bobby was coming up for the parents’ weekend. Dean had to admit, he was pretty excited to see him again too. As much as he loved working with Ellen and Jo, he sure missed going to the garage with Bobby every day. 

Sam peered over the edge of the roof again, looking for Bobby’s familiar truck. “But he’s late,” he practically whined. 

Dean rolled his eyes. “He’ll /be/ here,” he repeated. He stretched out lazily on one of the chairs near the pool, turning his face up into the warm sun. Ellen had let him take Friday off to meet Bobby. She and Jo had offered to let him take off the whole weekend from the garage and the bar too, but he couldn’t pass up the tips. Bobby would be busy with Sam at campus events for some of it anyway. “Tell me about this chick again,” Dean prompted to distract him.

“Alexis?” Sam’s voice perked up. It wasn’t a question really. She was all Sam talked about, besides his classes of course. Dean nodded slightly anyway, not bothering to open his eyes.

“I’ve pretty much told you everything,” Sam mused. “I’m hoping Bobby’ll get a chance to meet here while he’s here.”

Dean cracked one eye open. “Hey. I haven’t even met her yet.”

Sam gave a sheepish smile. “Okay, well you too. Maybe… she can join us for lunch tomorrow?”

Dean gave him a skeptical look. “You already invited her, didn’t you…?”

“Oh look, Bobby’s here!” Sam darted down the stairs. 

Dean rolled his eyes again and hauled himself up from the chair, clomping down the stairs after him. 

Bobby’s face lit up as soon as he saw them, making Dean blink at the sudden sting in his own eyes. The old mechanic wrapped each of the brothers in a near suffocating hug as soon as his feet hit pavement from the beat up pick up.

Dean hugged him as tight as he could right back, his chest clenching a little. It sucked being so far from Bobby. 

“You realize we’re standing underneath a giant pie?” Bobby deadpanned. 

Dean laughed, one hand still on Bobby’s shoulder like he might run away if he let go. “Fucking awesome, huh?”

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Can’t believe you haven’t gained thirty pounds by now.”

“Wait’ll you see the apartment,” Sam bubbled next to them excitedly, grabbing Bobby’s arm to drag him inside the diner and and toward the front stairs. He paused though, when he caught sight of Cas leaving the kitchen. 

“Cas! Cas, you gotta meet Bobby,” Sam waved the baker over. 

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, wondering what kind of mood Castiel would be in. The man had been as unpredictable as the weather over the past weeks and Dean didn’t know how to keep up. Some days he was the usual fascinating, kind man that Dean met originally, nearly doting on Dean, hanging on his every fumbled word. Other days, he was aloof, and almost seemed to be avoiding Dean. 

Dean couldn’t help but wonder if he was somehow upsetting Cas, but he sure as hell couldn’t figure out how. He gave a tentative smile as the man approached.

“Cas, this is Bobby…..” Dean watched Sam hesitate in describing Bobby’s role in their lives. 

“Basically our token father figure,” Dean stepped closer. Sam gave him a grateful look and the back of Bobby’s neck reddened slightly. “And Cas keeps us in amazing pie and jetted, whirlpool bathtubs,” Dean continued.

Castiel chuckled at that and wiped his hand on his apron before extending it to Bobby in greeting. “Wonderful to meet you, father figure.” Apparently he was in one of his better moods today.

Bobby grunted but Dean could tell he was pleased. He shook Castiel’s hand firmly. “You too, pie man.”

Castiel chuckled at that and Dean couldn’t help smiling. “Speaking of, would you like some pie?” Blue eyes flicked to Dean. When Cas was in his more friendly moods they often sat over a couple slices and chatted about random things. Dean assumed this particular invitation wasn’t just for him though, despite the gaze fixed on him. He elbowed Bobby, staring right back at Cas. “You got time for pie, right?”

Bobby rubbed at his ribs, shooting Dean a glare that he didn’t notice. “Yeah… I guess…” 

Sam just gave Bobby a loaded look. “Sure Cas, that’d be great.”

Castiel smiled, finally shifting his gaze to include the other two next to Dean. He ushered them to a booth and slipped a colorful piece of paper onto the table. “Here’s the menu today.” 

Dean looked it over eagerly. He’d learned that Castiel pretty much just made a new stack of simple paper menus every day since he baked whatever he was in the mood for on that particular day. 

Dean was debating how to invite Cas to stay with them when Sam did it for him. He knew he liked that kid for some reason. “Eat with us Cas?” Dean grinned down at his menu. Who could say no to those stupid puppy dog eyes? 

Castiel smiled. “Sure. I have a few minutes. Let me get your order first.”

They all obediently placed their orders and Castiel came back with a tray of slices. He had no choice but to sit next to Dean since Sam had made a point of sitting with Bobby across the booth. Not that Dean was complaining. God, he was still so pathetic. It’d been over a month. Shouldn’t he be over a freaking school yard crush by now?

“You don’t like it?” Castiel whispered to him softly, sending a slight chill down his spine. Dean glanced down at his pie, realizing he hadn’t taken a bite yet, too busy admonishing himself. “Oh no… of course not,” he took a large bite to prove it, biting back an obscene groan. Castiel gave a pleased smile and took a smaller bite of his own as he turned his attention back to Bobby and Sam who were discussing the weekend events planned by the school. 

When Sam insisted that Dean and Bobby had to attend the parents mixer with the department heads, Castiel spoke up, tone serious as always, “So did you and Dean, co-parent, Bobby?” Dean almost choked on his pie through his laughter. Castiel’s eyes sparkled in satisfaction despite his still straight face. His sense of humor struck at such random times, it usually caught Dean off guard. 

When Sam laughed too, Bobby seemed to realize that it was, in fact, a joke and gave a soft grunt of acknowledgement. “This idjit wasn’t exactly a lot of work,” he ruffled Sam’s hair fondly. “Bobby…” Sam whined and pushed a hand through the strands to fix it.  
Castiel chuckled softly. “Well he’s certainly done well. I can tell how proud Dean is.”

Dean and Sam both blushed at that, showing equally intent interest in their pie slices suddenly. It was made worse when Bobby grunted softly. “Yeah, both of ‘em done pretty damn good in my book.” 

Castiel watched in amusement as Bobby rubbed at the back of his neck, Dean cleared his throat, and Sam shifted in his seat. Apparently none were comfortable with words of affection even though their actions made it blatantly obvious pretty much at all times. He graciously changed the subject to lift the awkward silence and the table fell into comfortable conversation while they enjoyed amazing pie.

 

******************************************************************************************************************

 

“I feel like I’m taking my old girlfriend to meet the new one,” Dean offered dryly as he parked outside the garage. Bobby had insisted on checking it out and meeting Ellen, like if it or she didn’t meet his approval Dean would have to quit. 

“Shut up, ya idjit,” Bobby grumbled, looking over the façade. “Sign’s a little faded, hmm?” 

Dean rolled his eyes and climbed out of the car after Bobby. “Yeah and yours was painted fresh only about 25 years ago.” He led Bobby straight to the work area, knowing Ellen would likely be up to her elbows in grease by now. Sure enough he found her under the hood of an old Ford pick up. 

“Hey Ellen.”

“Thought I told you not to come in today, boy?” Ellen grumbled, not even glancing up from her work. 

Dean smirked, giving Bobby an ‘I told you so’ look. Bobby just rolled his eyes and leaned over to inspect the engine Ellen was working on. “Aren’t you gonna replace that timing belt?”

Dean took an amused step back as Ellen turned, gaze near murderous as it drifited over Bobby to Dean. “Who the hell are you bringing into my garage?” 

Dean held his hands up in mock surrender. Bobby’s brow furrowed and he stepped into her line of sight again. “Bobby Singer. Damn good mechanic,” he growled.

Ellen snorted. “Ellen Harvelle. “Damn /amazing/ mechanic. That timing belt’s got another 1,000 miles left on it and I don’t gouge my customers on things they don’t need.”

Dean backed up slowly as Bobby turned red. “It’s gonna be a hell of a lot more expensive if he can’t get back before then and it snaps. And what if you’re /wrong/ about the 1,000 miles?”

Uh oh. Dean decided it was safer to go for cover in the waiting room as Ellen brandished her wrench at Bobby.

Dean watched in morbid fascination from the safety of the waiting room as the pair continued to argue animatedly, now beneath the hood of a Mustang, the third car they’d been to in the last twenty minutes. He was half afraid the world might implode if the two were together too long, like some weird alternate universe was occurring. Finally, surely just before the inevitable apocalypse, Bobby joined Dean in the front. “She’s joining us for dinner.”

Dean blinked at him. “Ellen?”

“No, the tooth fairy,” Bobby snarked. “Insufferable woman,” he continued, muttering under his breath as he headed outside.

Dean gave Ellen a small wave through the window and followed after him in amused bewilderment.

 

***************************************************************************************************************************

 

Somehow it ended up being a fairly large crowd gathered for dinner and Dean was glad for the extra space in this apartment. He liked that the kitchen was open to the rest of the room as well so he could watch the various interactions while he cooked. Cas was seated at the island, sipping at his drink and ‘keeping Dean company’. He’d been invited over pie when it was discovered that Balthazar had rehearsal that night, which Dean was really broken up about.

Ellen and Jo had both come and had essentially mocked Dean for at least half of his personal possessions during the brief tour. Sam had taken an instant liking to both of the women, Dean could tell. He thought Jo was hilarious, which frankly was a little hypocritical since she told the same damn jokes that Dean told, which Sam declared were disgusting or misogynistic. 

Dean was currently chopping some vegetables while Bobby and Ellen continued their argument about the correct way to do a diagnostic check by the window. Sam and Jo were talking about school on the couch and Dean shot her a glare when she mentioned a ‘rager’ to Sam. He kind of loved that Sam had no idea what that was. 

[](http://imgur.com/OjXVp2Z)

 

“Are you sure I can’t help?” Castiel asked for the third time. 

“I got it Cas,” Dean assured him. “You cook all day long, every day, don’t you want a break?”

Castiel shrugged. “I don’t mind it. And I rarely make anything besides pie actually. We eat out a lot, although sometimes Balthazar or I will cook.” Dean managed not to make a face at the mention of the other man. 

“Well I’m good,” Dean repeated. “Want another drink?”

Castiel assessed his glass for a moment, Dean watching subtlely, still fascinated by practically every word or movement from the man. “Yes,” he finally decided. Dean shook his head, hiding a smile as he grabbed the bottle of whiskey to refill the glass for him.

“Thank you,” Castiel smiled at him. It melted him every fucking time. He nodded and turned his attention quickly back to the food. He could still feel Castiel’s gaze on him as he worked. 

“So…” Castiel started slowly, hesitantly, making Dean look back up at him. Cas always spoke so deliberately, it caught his attention. He quirked an eyebrow at him. “So…?” He prompted when the man fell silent again.

Castiel sighed, rolling his glass between his hands. “I’d like to start looking for my father,” he finally spoke softly, eyes downcast. 

Dean’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Cas had basically been avoiding that since their last conversation, even the times he wasn’t running cold on him. “Okay sure,” he replied easily, meeting Cas’s gaze when it snapped up to him. 

Dean smiled and eventually Cas smiled back. “Thank you.”

Dean shrugged. “No big.”

Castiel tilted his head. “No big what?”

Dean barked a laugh. “No big deal… you need to get out and talk to more people besides Balth, man.”

“Yes, probably,” Castiel agreed much too solemnly. Dean didn’t know what to do with that so he just went back to the food.

Dinner was chaotic with all of them gathered around the table Castiel had brought over and set up by the window. Everyone was talking at once and food was being passed haphazardly this way and that. Dean loved it. This was exactly what he’d always imagined big family dinners to be like. Once everyone started eating though, a comfortable silence fell over the group. Dean figured that meant the food was good. Eventually a slightly calmer conversation started.

“Damn I taught you good,” Bobby grunted around a mouthful.

“You taught this boy how to cook?” Ellen asked incredulously, a note of interest in her voice. 

“Well somebody had to, have you seen the way they eat?”

Dean smirked behind his bottle of beer and leaned to Cas’s ear next to him. “$50 says they hook up before Bobby goes home.”

Castiel’s brow furrowed. “You want me to bet money on your new boss copulating with your old boss?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Well make it sound cheap and dirty, why don’t you?”

Jo leaned across the table. “Hey… if blue eyes doesn’t want to, I’ll take that action.” 

Dean laughed at Cas’s appalled look and reached to shake Jo’s hand. “You’re on.”

“How will you even know?” Castiel stammered.

Dean gave him a look. “Trust me. I’ll know.” 

“It’s like a superpower,” Sam leaned forward conspiratorially, making Jo choke on her own beer.

“Do we need a damn kids’ table?” Ellen patted at Jo’s back until she stopped coughing. 

Bobby grumbled something under his breath to the effect that a kids’ room might be preferable and Dean and Sam both threw chunks of food at him. “Will you idjits find some damn manners?” He swatted lightly at the back of Dean’s head. 

Castiel watched them all in complete bewilderment. Dean nudged him with a grin. “Welcome to the nuthouse, Cas.”

“Thank you,” Castiel murmured hesitantly, making the whole table laugh as they resumed eating, the easy banter never ceasing as the conversation weaved around the table. It was like the motley crew had known each other for years.

Somehow Bobby and Cas got talking about sports as the meal wound down. Who knew Cas was a football fan? Dean switched seats with him though, so they didn’t have to talk over him. He joined in with Sam, Jo, and Ellen about school. Ellen was going to most of the same Parents’ Weekend activities, so Sam invited her and Jo to hang with him and Bobby for most of it. Dean didn’t miss the way Bobby’s eyes brightened a little when Ellen agreed, even though the old mechanic’s gaze remained on Cas. 

Dean’s own gaze flicked to Cas probably too often, watching the two men converse; well, Cas mostly. He only caught snippets but they seemed to transition from football to movies. It seemed they both enjoyed old Westerns. He was jolted from his reverie when Sam kicked him under the table. “You’re drooling,” he stage whispered, much too gleefully.

Dean glared at him as he rubbed at his shin. “Shut up. I am not.” He pushed his plate toward his brother. “Be useful and start cleaning up.” 

Sam gave him a knowing smirk as he rose to oblige. Jo arched an eyebrow at Dean questioningly but he ignored her. He sure as hell didn’t need her jumping on the ‘let’s tease Dean mercilessly about his pathetic crush’ band wagon with Sam. 

Dean jolted when Cas leaned to him, arm brushing against Dean’s. “Why don’t we do dessert and drinks up on the roof? It’s a glorious evening.”

Only Cas could get away with saying something like ‘glorious evening’ and have it sound normal. Dean flashed a grin. “Good idea.”

“I’ll help you carry everything up,” Castiel continued, still close enough to make Dean tense. The pie man didn’t totally seem to understand personal space and he definitely didn’t get what his proximity did to Dean. Either that or he was just incredibly cruel, which Dean didn’t believe for a second. 

“Sure, thanks,” Dean cleared his throat. Castiel smiled and got up to gather the pies he’d brought, the boxes stacked neatly atop each other on the kitchen counter. Dean took a breath before following to grab paper plates and plastic forks. 

Jo and Ellen had helped Sam finish clearing the table and Dean figured the dishes could wait until later; maybe even tomorrow. “All right, grab whatever booze you’re gonna need, we’re moving this shindig upstairs,” Dean announced. “Not you Sam,” he added when his brother grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels. 

Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s for Bobby.”

“Well then grab the other one for me,” Dean added a stack of plastic cups to his pile.

The little group all trooped down the hall and up the stairs to the roof, settling in the lounge area near the pool. Castiel started studiously serving pie slices, Dean handing him plates one by one. “And what would you like?” Blue eyes shifted to Dean. “Mmm… the peach please.” Castiel nodded and cut a slice for him.

“If only I were a few years younger, I’d be walking you down the aisle just for this pie, Castiel,” Ellen praised over her slice, making the man blush. 

“You’re welcome to come by the shop any time,” Castiel offered instead, shifting on his feet uncomfortably.

Ellen laughed. “Oh sweetie, I usually send one of my boy’s by. You know my bar is just up the street.”

“You have more kids?” Bobby cut in, eyes a bit wide under the brim of his hat. 

Jo nearly choked on her pie. “Girl, what’s wrong with you tonight?” Ellen chided before turning to Bobby. “No more kids, just Jo. I meant the guys at the bar and the garage. Dean’s the only one that does double duty though.” She patted his knee fondly when he sat down. 

Dean flashed a smile at her as he shoved more pie in his face. He swore Bobby looked both pleased and a little jealous, which honestly, was probably about right. He hoped they’d have a little more time to spend just the two of them before he had to leave. 

“What about you?” Ellen asked Bobby. Bobby grunted, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably, unsure how to answer. 

“Just us idjits,” Dean saved him. “Not lucky enough to have our genes, but stupid enough to take us on. Though who the hell would /choose/ us is beyond me.”

Sam grunted an agreement and clapped Bobby on the shoulder, who looked thoroughly uncomfortable with the acknowledgement. 

Ellen chuckled. “Well Bobby Singer, you may be a shitty mechanic, but you seem like a good man at least.” 

Bobby rolled his eyes and Dean could see a flush creeping underneath that beard. “I taught this boy everything he knows,” he pointed out gruffly, gesturing with his beer bottle toward Dean.

Dean laughed, nodding. “Yeah, sorry Ellen.”

Ellen shook her head. “Okay, okay… a passable mechanic,” she compromised. 

The rest of the evening went much like the beginning, the compliments veiled in insults and laughter flying more freely as the alcohol did. Ellen noticed Cas wasn’t drinking much at one point and she and Jo challenged him to a drinking contest. He shrugged amicably and agreed. The whole group watched in awe as he downed shot after shot without even flinching. “I think I’m beginning to feel something,” the baker observed in his usual calm manner after what must have been the seventh shot. 

Ellen and Jo both threw in the towel right there as Dean nearly fell out of his chair laughing. Even Bobby chuckled quietly at that as Cas gave them all that confused look he’d perfected. 

“That was awesome, Cas,” Dean assured him, still laughing.

Castiel smiled, pleased, even though Dean was sure the man didn’t know quite what he’d done. “Thank you.”

Bobby and Ellen were the first to bow out, complaining that it was too late for old codgers to be out. Bobby, being the gentleman that he was, offered to take Ellen home. Dean just smirked at Jo who stuck her tongue out at him and told her mom she’d stay at the dorms with a friend. Sam promised to walk her and considering he was the only sober one there, Ellen agreed easily.

The second she and Bobby left Dean held a hand out to Jo. “Come on, pay up.” Jo swatted his hand away. “No way, nothing’s happened yet!”

Dean laughed. “Only a matter of time, Jo Jo….”

Jo rolled her eyes. “You’re drunk.,” she informed him, before turning to Sam. “Come on Sam, we can still hit one of the parties tonight. There’s supposed to be a couple good ones.”

Sam hesitated, glancing at Dean who just waved him off, lazily leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on the table. “Go. Take your cell and be careful.”

Sam grinned and tugged Jo toward the door before Dean could change his mind. 

Dean shook his head and gave a contented sigh as he finished his drink. He gave Cas a lazy smile. “You gonna bail on me too?”

Castiel had already been watching him of course, but Dean was actually getting used to that. “I think I’d like to stay if you don’t mind.”

Dean held his empty glass out. “Not if you fill me up.” Castiel smiled and grabbed the bottle, pouring more in Dean’s glass, somehow their gaze never breaking. “Thanks.”

Castiel inclined his head politely before topping off his own glass and leaning back in his chair, mirroring Dean’s relaxed position. It was almost odd to see him like that, Dean mused to himself in amusement. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Dean eventually turning his attention to the stars above. He was almost startled when Cas finally spoke softly. 

“Do you really think we can find my father?”

Dean glanced over at the man next to him. “Yeah. I do.” The odds were probably stacked horribly against them, but his words were still sincere. He reached to squeeze Cas’s forearm gently, giving him a reassuring smile.

Castiel smiled back after a moment. “I don’t know how to thank you, Dean.”

Dean shook his head. “Haven’t done anything yet. Thank me when we find him.”

Castiel put his hand over Dean’s before it could slip off his arm. “You have. Done a lot I mean. Thank you.”

Dean flushed a little in embarrassment. “Sure. Okay, Cas.”

Castiel smiled again before releasing his hand and laying his head back to look at the stars again.

They spent the rest of the evening in mostly useless chit chat, occasionally sharing anecdotes about their respective childhoods, like the time Dean and Sam nearly burnt down a whole field setting off illegal fireworks one Fourth of July, which reminded Cas of the time he nearly burned down a whole kitchen when he put too much bourbon in a pie filling. It was a pretty fucking awesome night.

 

*****************************************************************************************************************

 

Dean slept in the next day while Bobby and Sam were off doing Parent’s Weekend activities all morning. He assumed Ellen and Jo were with them for at least part of it, which was probably the only reason that Bobby actually lasted all morning. He wasn’t exactly a ‘structured activity’ kind of guy. Dean wasn’t surprised at all when he met them for lunch as promised, and mother and daughter were already at the table with Bobby, Sam, and a petite brunette that Dean could only assume was Alexis. 

Dean plopped into the empty chair between Jo and Bobby. “Well just look at all these happy Parents’ Weekenders,” he gushed mockingly, earning glares from both Bobby and Ellen. 

Sam just rolled his eyes. “Most of it has been fun,” he protested. “Dean this is Alexis. Alexis, Dean.”

“Hey Alexis,” Dean reached over the table to shake her hand as she murmured a shy hello. He arched an eyebrow at Sam, who just gave him a warning look that clearly said ‘be nice or I’ll strangle you in your sleep’.

Jo leaned to Dean’s ear. “She only talks sporadically and I have no clue what she’s saying half the time.”

Dean managed to stifle a laugh as the waitress came and they all placed their orders. 

“So Alexis,” Dean started, all eyes on the table flicking toward him, Sam’s mostly tense. “What year are you?”

Alexis shifted in her seat. “Junior.”

“And dating a freshman?” Dean made it sound like she was a cougar after his little brother. Sam cleared his throat loudly, eyes narrowed at Dean.

Alexis just nodded, seemingly unaware of the tension between the brothers at the moment. “Sam and I have a class together,” she noted, like that was enough of an explanation. 

Dean somehow resisted a scoff or a question on if she dated everyone she had a class with. “Have a major yet?” The rest of the table listened in rapt attention to the little interrogation. Very subtle. 

“Journalism,” Alexis gave a small smile.

“What’s that, like newspaper stuff?” Dean cocked an eyebrow, ignoring the look from Sam. 

Alexis nodded slightly. “I’m on the school paper, but I’d really love to be Christiane Amanpour once I graduate.”

Pretty much every one at the table blinked at her dumbly. It took her moment to recognize the blank stares. “Oh. She’s a foreign correspondent.”

“So a lot of traveling, no roots to set down,” Dean surmised pointedly. 

Sam cut in before she could answer. “Bobby, didn’t you like that lecture from Dr. Adler?”

Bobby gave him a look like he was crazy. “Oh yeah. Thrilling.”

“Charmed quarks over your head, Bobby Singer?” Ellen barely contained a grin. “I thought it was fascinating.”

Sam relaxed as Bobby snorted, the conversation successfully pulled away from Dean’s questioning of Alexis, although his brother was still looking at the girl critically. 

“Ow!” Dean hissed, rubbing his leg where Jo had kicked him under the table. “She’s not that bad. Quit being all ‘annoying big brother’ or whatever,” Jo whispered at him.

Dean sighed. “Sam doesn’t need some chick who’s gonna be bouncing all over the globe.” He wanted Sam to have stability. He deserved that after their shitty life of bouncing all around themselves.

Sam was watching them across the table as Bobby and Ellen debated nuclear physics, trying to figure out what they were saying.

Jo rolled her eyes. “They’re not getting /married/ Dean, they just started dating.”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest with another soft grunt. Jo kicked him again. “Quit pouting.”

Dean glared at her without any real venom. “Quit abusing me.”

Jo just smirked at him. “You like it.”

Dean pushed at her arm lightly as the food arrived. 

The meal was slightly less eventful, with mostly benign chatter around the table, although Dean watched Sam with his girlfriend, occasionally asking borderline intrusive questions of her. She didn’t seem flustered, just answered them while giving him an odd look. Sam looked about ready to murder him, but he couldn’t help it. It was his job to protect his brother after all. He knew how attached Sam got. He dated some girl his junior year in high school for like two weeks before declaring he was madly in love with her and then he was crushed when she cheated on him. 

Dean figured he could make it up to him by actually going to this stupid parents’ mixer later with Bobby. That would at least appease him to some degree. After the fifth elbow in his ribs from Jo, he finally stopped the questioning though and the end of lunch was relatively peaceful. 

Afterwards Sam shot Dean a glare before taking Alexis back to campus to meet her own parents who were supposed to be arriving soon. Ellen kissed Bobby’s cheek at the curb before climbing in her truck. Dean smirked as Jo slapped a twenty into his hand, grumbling under her breath before joining her mother. 

“What was that for?” Bobby asked suspiciously as he followed Dean to the Impala. 

“Nothing,” Dean replied, tone all false innocence. “Have fun last night?”

Bobby flushed and tugged the brim of his hat lower as he climbed in the car next to Dean. “Shut up, boy.”

Dean just grinned as he headed back to the apartment. He was glad to have Bobby alone for a bit. They used to spend so much time together at work and Dean definitely missed it. 

“So how’s Ash working out? You sure he’s not gonna burn the garage down while you’re gone?” Dean tried to keep the jealous tone out of his voice. If Bobby could deal with Ellen though, Dean should be able to live with Ash replacing him. 

Bobby shook his head. “Kid’s a freak, but he knows his way around an engine block. I caught him meditating on the hood of a Ford the other day.”

Dean snorted a laugh. “Better than some things I guess…”

Bobby gave a soft chuckle. “Pretty sure he comes to work high as hell most days, but it never interferes with his work.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Just make sure he’s not bringing anything in that’s gonna get you in trouble.”

“I’m a big boy, Dean,” Bobby replied wryly, corners of his eyes crinkling like they did when he was trying not to laugh.

“Yeah yeah,” Dean chuckled. 

“How’s she running?” Bobby patted the dashboard. 

“Good. I need to take her to the garage for an oil change,” Dean commented as he pulled into his parking space under the apartment. He backed in, knowing Bobby would want to look under the hood anyway.

Sure enough as soon as they climbed out he was popping it open and leaning over, careful of the hot metal. “Got some grease build up,” the old mechanic pointed, voice chiding.

Dean just smiled, leaning on the side. “I’ll get it when I do the oil.” He watched Bobby poke around and it kind of felt like old times. “You really have to head back Sunday night?”

Bobby gave a small sigh before answering. “Yeah, can’t leave that knucklehead in charge too long.” He wiped his hands on his jeans, eyes still on the engine. “I hope you’re not killing yourself with these two jobs.”

Dean’s eyes sparkled at Bobby’s way of asking how he was, of course under the hood of car, the place for pretty much all their deep conversations. Dean supposed that made it more manly. “Nah, they’re great actually. Ellen’s real flexible and I get great tips at the bar.”

Bobby glanced at him briefly as if assessing the truth of his words before leaning to wiggle at some cables, not really doing anything. “You’re different,” he commented casually after a while. “Like there’s this tension that’s gone. Just happy to be rid of me?”

Dean frowned and nudged Bobby’s arm to make him look up again. “Miss you like hell Bobby. I just… Sam’s fucking thrilled to be in school. I know there’s still a lot to get him through and a lot of hours to work to get him there, but I kinda feel like we made it, ya know? He’s in school and doing great and…” Dean shrugged. “I’m just happy we could give him this.” The ‘we’ and implied gratitude hung between them as Bobby’s eyes watered slightly. 

The man cleared his throat and pulled Dean into an awkward but sincere hug before going back to the engine. “There’s not that much grease. You take good care of her,” his voice was a little rough and Dean knew he wasn’t really talking about the car.

“Thanks, Bobby,” Dean replied softly, patting his shoulder. “Couldn’t have done any of it without you,” he added, just wanting to say the words even though they were unnecessary. 

“Damn straight,” Bobby grinned at him.

Dean laughed. “Come on, let’s get a beer before Sam gets back.”

 

*******************************************************************************************************************

 

Sam bitched at Dean about Alexis the whole walk back to the campus for the mixer. Bobby wisely kept silent next to them. Dean was expecting it and already had a defense in place, but somehow the topic managed to morph into a debate they’d had a million times before in which Dean adamantly insisted that Chuck Norris could so kick Jet Li’s ass. As always, when they turned to Bobby for the tie breaker, he just shrugged. Both brothers groaned and rolled their eyes. They would have returned to the animated debate, but they’d arrived at the campus. Sam gave them both a warning to behave and pointed them toward the building where the mixer was before going off to his own event.

“Well darling, shall we?” Dean drawled. Bobby grunted and shoved at his arm as they headed inside. They were promptly greeted by a much too chipper woman who slapped name tags on their chests before they could even protest. “Now, what lovely names do I put on these?” She chirped, marker poised over Dean’s sticker. 

“John Bonham,” Dean answered once he caught up with the situation. The woman scrawled it happily over his sticker before turning expectantly to Bobby. 

The older man gave her a wary look. “Dee Snider.” Dean smirked as she flourished the marker to write that one too before attacking another couple that came in the door.

“Well this should be fun,” Bobby sighed, following Dean inside the main room where parents were indeed mixing.

“Food,” Dean pointed. “Tell me they have a fucking bar…” he muttered, still scanning the room as they made their way to the buffet table.

“They don’t,” Ellen appeared at their side, voice clearly lamenting that fact. 

Dean watched Bobby immediately perk up at her arrival. He shook his head. Dude had it bad. “Yeah well, at least you two can sneak off to a coat closet or something,” he sighed dramatically, earning matching glares from both of them. He ignored the looks in favor of grabbing a plate to fill as they wandered off together.

“I might have to tackle you if you take that last shrimp,” A deep voice drawled across from him. Dean glanced up to find a man smiling at him. He flashed a grin in return, assessing the man. He was older than Dean, but probably not by too much. He had kind of gray blue eyes that were dancing at Dean and a neatly trimmed beard over a strong jaw. “Oh yeah? That a promise?”

Sam would probably kill him for hitting on anyone that was even remotely connected to Stanford, but Dean couldn’t resist. Hell, the guy was hot and Dean hadn’t seen any fucking action since they moved. He’d been spending way too much time mooning over a certain baker and it was definitely time to move on. 

The man’s open smile turned to an interested smirk that Dean definitely recognized. He had to suppress a shiver as the man spoke again, velvety smooth with a slight unhurried Southern twang. “Well I usually try to save the tackling until after names are exchanged at the very least, brother.”

Dean laughed and held a hand out to him. “Dean Winchester.”

The man took it firmly in his own, arching an eyebrow under the brim of his newsboy cap, which frankly just made him that much hotter. “Not John Bonham?” His tone was clearly teasing.

[](http://imgur.com/TOTxPjX)

 

Dean grinned. “Alter ego….”

The man stepped closer, not releasing Dean’s hand. “Benny Lafitte. Nice to meet you, Dean Winchester. Don’t tell me you’re old enough to actually have a kid that’s in /college/?”

Dean debated messing with him just briefly. “Nah, kid brother. Both parents are dead so….” He shrugged, glancing away for a moment, waiting for the inevitable awkward sympathies.

Benny squeezed his hand before letting go. “Well he’s pretty lucky to have such an amazing big brother then. I mean, your drumming is awesome,” he continued, pulling a surprised laugh from Dean.

Dean shook his head in amusement. “What about you? You really old enough to have a kid here?”

Benny chuckled and graciously gave Dean the information he was really looking for. “I’m 34. My daughter was the result of a drunken night in high school when I was 16. Wouldn’t trade her for the world though.”

Dean nodded. A couple years older than he thought but he could certainly deal with it. He kind of always had a thing for older men anyway. Women he kept more around his own age. Freud would probably have a field day with that, but Dean never dwelled on it. The way Benny was looking at him, he didn’t seem to have an issue with it either. 

“And her mother?” He checked, holding a shrimp to Benny. Benny smiled as he took it, biting the meat off the tail. “We’ve managed to maintain a decent friendship over the years, which I’m grateful for.”

Dean nodded again, grinning at the man. “I’ll be 25 in January and I’m single,” he informed him blatantly.

Benny laughed and stepped so close Dean could feel his body heat and breathe in the faintest scent of leather and wood. It was an oddly alluring mix. “Well since you shared your shrimp, maybe I can take you out to dinner later tonight to make up for it?”

Dean licked his lips. He really wished he would’ve taken Ellen’s offer to have the night off now. “I gotta work,” he admitted reluctantly. “I bartend at the Roadhouse, just up the block. You could stop by though. I’ll hook you up with a couple drinks?”

Benny touched his arm. “Tell you what. I’ll come by for a couple drinks and when you’re off we can go back to my hotel and order room service for a late dinner.”

It wasn’t even really a question, which just turned Dean on even more. “Yeah. That sounds good,” he agreed, resisting the urge to fling himself at the guy right there.

Benny’s hand slid to Dean’s wrist and he leaned to brush their lips together, teasingly light, before pulling back again. “I’ll see you later then, Dean.”

“Yeah later,” Dean managed as the grip on his wrist disappeared. The man winked at him and stole another shrimp off his plate before melting into the crowd. Dean just stared after him. Holy shit, that was hot. Tonight couldn’t get here fast enough.


End file.
